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The Language of Drunk(Acrostic Poem)

Three sheets to the wind, the boat meanders,
Hammered with repeated blows.
Euphoric, triumph will prevail.
Loaded with accessories,
Annihilates the blue screen of death.
Naggin-bottle, empty and sweaty.
Groggy from exhaustion and blows.
Under the weather deck,
Addicted in a weakened state,
Giddy, as dusk approaches,
Erunk, The past becomes present.
Oiled on troubled waters,
Fried from battling the waves.
Drunk with passion to reach
Rocky land in the far distance.
Under the influence, controlling my fate,
Newcastle, on the horizon,
Knowing, the safety of the harbor.

29 Oct 17

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  nice first stanza.
 — cadmium

Thanks cadmium
 — wkamen