COLD and clammy drunken hobbits,
with flower sprites that trickle
from the clouds above, they pull
out their majic wand, and shot it
like a empty gun.
I cry out, i dont want to be alone,
i cry out, im frightend and need some
love, i cry out, and laugh at all
these small words, still these drunken
hobbits have some thing to say.
DAVID GERARDINO
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drunken-habbits/
