I shuffle along in the sand.
This walkway in paradise.
Ignored or shunned
By the tourists – Doesn’t matter.
They aren’t real, don’t exist.
My colleagues call out to me
As I pass. Nothing
To fear in daylight with
A bottle in my pocket.
Oh but at night, Monsters
Scream in my head and
God help me the things
After a couple of days
“Doing Without.”
I pray every night that
I find a bottle tomorrow. And
God hears my prayers.
Least ways there haven’t
Been too many days…
“doing without.”
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