Then they came on at him in their entire droves
Just the way he remembered it well in his adolescent dreams
Driving this peculiarly god-given thirst on through him – bringing everything and all of it to his rather impressively dressed dinner table of sorts
Ought to meet them right at an unequivocal middle, straddle each last one oh so fittingly, never too much either – the gloriously romanticised touch of one such poet and his seriously left-of-centre words
Wouldn’t have it any other way
When did it ever get to let itself become just one of those things – finally, a fair level of acceptance
Do us all a favour, grab your chance and take it to the point of no return
Perhaps you earned it

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