Poem Hunter
Concrete Bed
MD ( / )

Concrete Bed

Why is he there
too wasted to think
on a bed of concrete;
he needs one more drink.

Over night in jail
his punishment be
found crawling the streets
on bended knee.

He feels like a fool
the warden shakes his head
he was embarrassed and unclean
on a concrete bed.

He tossed and turned
till the new morn
with his face in his hands
cursed the day he was born.

Bail was posted
a fool took a chance
he’s a no good drunk
you can tell with one glance.

He’ll be back soon
on this concrete bed
with alcohol the culprit
he’ll wish he was dead.

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