A SAINTHOOD DRINKER

Sitting on the 3rd step, I exhale in rings
sun lashes on my feet, it stings
Heady with perturbed exhilaration
I gaze at the bustling world
never before have I exclaimed
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
a self proclaimed morbid thinker

I watch the skies change, from blue to red
Observe flesh begging for bread
undisturbed I walk on, not bothered
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
never let my mind to flicker

Rage explodes, to my right
fists fly, blood spills in my sight
honking , cacophony of metal

                                  

I move on , worrying little        
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
in affairs of another I don't tinker

familiar faces drift by, waving
eyes lost on each other, dreaming
I neither hear their moans, nor their screaming
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
not a considerate, philanthropist mister

a smile flashes on a fellow drinker
blurred to my vision, I grin along
bells ring , joy resonates with a gong
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
sated, not a desperate winner

polluted winds brush my hair
troubled coughs of the tormented gear
I ignore the stares of the ignorant
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
readily branded, as the social sinner

a bottle of spring for my dry throat
a procreator, mind filled with doubt
I am a bottled sainthood drinker
come what may, I won't miss dinner