Five Thousand – Vincent Edward Manda

Five thousand cigarettes

And I am still here,

 

One thousand whiskeys

And I am still here,

 

Ten thousand beers

And I am still here

 

A million thoughts

Running every minute,

Providing ten million opportunities,

 

Why am I still here?

Why am I still here?

Why am I still here?

 

When the silence

Whispers so softly.

eduard696dantes

his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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