I have no take on it
Like an empty plate
I scape on it
Can’t be bothered with it
I’m at the crossroads
Making decisions
While the ball drops on
Television a mad Poet
On a mission to forthright
My own diction
Sipping on wine
Of my own brine
Picked from my own vine
Drinking slow
Still have two hours to go
Chin up
chest out
shoulders back
Stomach in
Pen ready ✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒