The Hangover

The weekend came, the weekend left.

I got plastered of my face, much is the same.

My sober mind mocks and jeers at my drunken self.

I wake up and feel the shame, knowing that I’ve played the same game again.

The pointless mess of getting fucked and spent.

Pure moments of bliss to dissolve reality and it’s stress.

Why does it always come to this?

The moment of the hangover is the time of clear thought. 

God if you’re there, please give me the strength.

To start over fresh, and leave this cycle of sex, drink, sin and death.

But the weekend is coming! The weekend is here!

No time to think, just time to live. 

Live for the moment, so lets get fucked!  

And start once again this addictive cycle of  hell. 

God help us all.

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