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Drunken Dance
Graceful glisten
Of love so sweet,
Hastefully listen
To the tapping of feet.
The dancing men laugh,
While the women gaze.
A skirt rips in half
With an alcoholic faze.
Meeting strange faces
Whilst breathing fog,
Heads to messy places
Covered in smog.
Love leading hearts
And blinding eyes,
Makes broke parts
And never-ending cries.
So sing like a choir
Of broken dreams,
Heal the fire
With alcohol streams.
Fuel the grave of empty hope
Until it becomes a spark,
Then men can finally cope
With the emotional mark.
Burdened bruises
And children’s quarrels,
Hell’s gates get their chooses
Of rotten people's florals.
Stars fall from the crowd
And angels from danger.
Just make your mother proud,
then she won’t be a stranger.
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I imagine this as a movie scene, it reminds me of stress and the sense of being overwhelmed. I picture this person living this is a man, he is most likely middle aged, set in the 1920-30's, America.