*A non serious poem, it must be read after the first if some comic relief
is needed*

I persuade my eyes to open

They may seem to see the same scene
Yet laying on the floor
A drunken friend

Lost to blur
Is once a clean flat
Yet is now not

Now standing
Swaying as if an indoor breeze
Counters against my shoulder
Pain begs for my to lay

My sock sticks to the floor
Alcohol soaked carpets

The cold air
Of a window left open
After complaints to a smoker

Where there were bottles
Coffee cups of early leavers
Dress a flooded table top

Friends look fragile
With hangovers
Huddle round kettle
Waiting for coffee

Whilst I stand

Staring out the window

Into the consciousness of a different life
In the vacillating and hypnotic
Yet hangover soothing azure blue sky