edit
If pubs, and beer, and girls, are truly blessed,
of gifts bestowed upon the working man,
how does the pissy foam on top a can,
the Fosters begging on the bar arrest
a dream, like Wendy did with Peter Pest?
If poems slurred in drink, with thought can span
an oaken bar, it's time that love began.
For drunks love drunks and poets love the best.
The noise is loud and no one gives a fuck
how much you drink, or even how you dress.
A woman in her cups will take a shine,
and if you're lucky be an open book.
In there its really easy to impress,
but be prepared to fill her up with wine.
If pubs, and beer, and girls, are truly blessed,
of gifts bestowed upon the working man,
how does the pissy foam on top a can,
the Fosters begging on the bar arrest
a dream, like Wendy did with Peter Pest?
If poems slurred in drink, with thought can span
an oaken bar, it's time that love began.
For drunks love drunks and poets love the best.
The noise is loud and no one gives a fuck
how much you drink, or even how you dress.
A woman in her cups will take a shine,
and if you're lucky be an open book.
In there its really easy to impress,
but be prepared to fill her up with wine.
Quote:placed here as well poetry practice for proper critique
original;
Why are pubs, and beer, and girls, the greatest?
Of gifts bestowed upon the working man.
How does the flesh in dingy bars, and can
of fosters begging on the bar arrest
the dream, like Wendy did with Peter Pest.
If poems slurred in drink, with thought can span
an oaken bar, it's time that love began.
For drunks love drunks and poets love the best.
The noise is loud and no one gives a fuck
how much you drink, or even how you dress.
A woman in her cups will take a shine,
and if you're lucky be an open book.
In there its really easy to impress,
but be prepared to fill her up with wine.

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