55. Glutton for Punishment

i’m a glutton for punishment
don’t look at me with such astonishment
everythin i do is wrong
for instance, take a look at this song
can’t even toke on a decent bong
without coughing my guts up
forever stuck in a rut
i wanna work but i hate waking up
never had the best of luck
i’m a glutton for punishment
much to my detriment.
Glutton. But tough like mutton.
the long way round always feels quicker
this country mouse aint no city-slicker
i cycled the miles and i walked on by
i never did learn to drive
jus get high and walk on by.
Aah that’s the life.

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9 thoughts on “55. Glutton for Punishment”

  1. I feel like this at least once a week, so it’s oddly comforting to see the feeling put into a great poem. It doesn’t sound whiny like other poems I’ve read on the topic, but slightly defiant and accepting.

  2. I think we are all glutton’s for punishment… in one way or another. The long way around always feels quickest to me, too. 😉

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