It Will Look Better In The Morning!

Starting, startling, the full horror of the morning,

Breaking, in dawning, in waves of cold nausea.

The grim grey light, creeps, seeping, seeking,

And finding, me on the couch in a drunken miasma,

Framed in cold fumes of kebab, beer and vodka.

Ruthless, relentless, the clock on the wall, ticks, senselessly,

Endlessly, ticking and taking the hours of my life.

Pulsing, throbbing, head losing the fight with my bladder for ease and release.

Then distantly, dismally, shamefully remembered, the row with my wife.

With unsteady gait, I wade to the bathroom, through the ruins of my life.

Then finding and unwinding my coiled horror, my doubt, her.... smiling!

Laughing, loving, jibing at my discomfort and my predicament.

Humourfull chiding, rallying and tidying the debris of dispute, which she is ignoring.

Elation growing, I take my chance, “I made a fool of myself love!” I repent.

Hangover forgotten in remembering why we married. She was heaven sent!

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