Standing before the river, Oshimi.
Beneath the overcast sky
Not quite the season of rains
But the sky itself,
Is as much gloomy.
I look down in the water, and
A long face with a vacant stare
Stares back.
Eyes bloodshot
And face unshaven
But what do I care?
Not quite sure why I came to Oshimi,
I turned
Toes staggeringly pointing homewards.
Back in this dirty room
Plops in this tired sofa
And on the table, a bottle and a glass
Of my favorite poison
I used to drink to live
Now, all I do is live to drink.
Deserted, I sit idly.
Family and friends
Even my enemies
All gone!
Who wants to be with a drunk?
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