Jack poured a shot
That’s what he does best
Hiding his plot
Under his vest
*
Warming my soul
On gasoline
An empty hole
His liquor feeds
*
Sent me out walking
In the grass
I slipped and fell, bruising
Both pride and ass
*
He raised his glass
Smirked while he laughed
He poured more jack
Behind my back
*
I couldn’t see
The frozen street
I slipped upon
Under my feet
*
This Jack of trades
With ice and booze
Used my mistakes
As his own tools
*
I’d like to say
It was my first time with frost
But that’d be a lie
So, make another toast
*
Icy and slick
Just my type these days
I make me sick
Bring on the freeze
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
If you like what you read, feel free to leave a tip, I would love some feedback
Find me on twitter @kelli7958958
or facebook
Keep reading
More stories from Kelli Sheckler-Amsden and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (10)
Lol 😆 that was a funny lesson. Yeah no heavy drinking during the cold.
A cold journey through mistakes and hard lessons, wrapped in Jack's bitter embrace. 🥃
Snow and booze. Almost as dangerous as boating and booze! This was both fun and strangely sad, Kelli. A very, very contrarian entry to the challenge!
"Used my mistakes As his own tools" Oof, those lines hit me so hard. Loved your poem!
Outstanding, Kelli!!!
Lol, loved the humor!
Haha. Omg. I swear it's the same guy. 🤣
nice one
That's a good one!
What an imaginative poem. So, you had some Jack with Jack Frost hope it was over ice. Haha.