The Mark

by joetwo

I wake in state

The lowest I’d rate

That I had ever been in

My head was a fog

And stomach agog

My ears rang a curious din

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I raised my arm above my head

All the time wishing that I was dead

I move my arm and alas, hark!

For  upon my hand

That loathsome brand

The most dreaded mark

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Oh! How could it be so

That to there I would go

Infinity nightclub, what was I thinking?

But my head is so sore

There’s bottles on the floor

It must have been all the drinking

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Though every time I say “don’t”

I find myself in a place I won’t

Normally ever go

Filled with dopes

Spreading gropes

And things you’d best not know

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Beside me something moves

Emerging from the blankets groove

What have I done? I’m feeling quite wrong

But out from the sheet

Comes a girl looking neat

Infinity’s my place from now on

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Written for Trifecta week ninety-one.

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