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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1648250-Long-Way-Home
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Comedy · #1648250
This is based loosely on Poe's "The Raven"... it's a comedy poem
                                        Long Way Home

Once upon a midnight party,
I got drunk on some Bacardi,
smoked some green and partied hardy,
and lost my way to the front door.
"Must be the liquor, nothing more."

As I denied that crazy notion,
I noticed nigh a subtle motion,
motion as if upon the ocean,
and straightaway fell to the floor.
"Was that the liquor? I'm not so sure."

Embarrassed quickly up I stood,
as nonchallantly as I could,
feeling foolish and not so good,
and tried in vain to find the door.
"Must be the liquor, nothing more."

Maybe it was that hit of grass,
that knocked me flat upon my ass,
it sure was good, in it's own class,
maybe that's why I've lost the door.
"Maybe this.. and nothing more."

Around the corner "alas!" some stairs,
that just might take me down to where,
to where I hope, or do I dare,
that I may stumble upon the door.
"God only knows what's next in store."

"Well hell!" these stairs look awful steep,
but I have promises to keep,
and doors to find before I sleep,
so down I tread to the ground floor.
"I hope I make it home by four."

"Woohoo!" Down here I can get out,
I'm tired of wandering about,
I need some sleep without a doubt,
I'm ready for my own front door.
"My own front door and nothing more."

I can't remember just how far,
away from here I parked my car,
or did I leave it at the bar?
and ride with friends to this damn door.
"I can't remember anymore."

To call a taxi I can not,
my last money that Bacardi bought,
what other options have I got?
How will I get to my front door?
"My front door and nothing more."

A look around revealed a way,
though highly dangerous I must say,
but I have to try it, come what may,
for I must get to my front door.
"I do not want to play no more."

Here we go, this bike I'll straddle,
and pray to God I win the battle,
to stay my ass upon the saddle,
and find the way to my front door.
"I will not try this, nevermore."

Toward home I start this epic trip,
praying over that I do not tip,
holding on with a vise-like grip,
I slowly head to my front door.
"I will not try this, not once more!"

Is that an engine that I hear?
I think it is, that's what I fear.
It's coming fast upon my rear,
please let me get to my front door.
"My front door and nothing more."

Oh God I hope it's not a cop,
oh please oh please don't let him stop,
this half a joint I'd hate to drop,
please let me get to my front door.
"I will do this nevermore."

On by he drove without a glance,
I very nearly shit my pants,
twas nothing but an ambulance!
Thank God I see my own front door.
"I can not ride this bike no more."

Into my yard I rode with glee,
hoping my neighbors did not see,
this drunken fool hit that damn tree,
trying to get to my front door.
"I'll never ride a bike no more."

Into my door I nearly fell,
somehow surviving that trip through hell,
this is one story I will not tell,
to my lovely, darling, sweet Lenore.
" I will speak of this, nevermore."




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