Maeve was drunk all the time.
Tonight, was not an exception.
She drove trucks for a living. Her father and mother were kind enough to give birth to her, not realizing that they had to take care of her until she was eighteen. Long story short, they took the easy way out.
The grey sofa is all that keeps me company
The one that reclines and knocks
And now I lie here, ignoring the clocks!
Ignoring the unwritten stories on my shelf
And the unsung songs within my head
Hoping to be finished by some unseen elf
Perfection is a procrastination hidden under hood
And I still ignore all calling , I confess
That if ideas are trees , my mind is an enormous wood
Perceptive has shown me that I'm blessed
But this solitary thought still haunts me,
Will success ever tip it's hat if I am not obsessed?