eric sundin

Though twisted hard on Life’s throttle
he slowed right out of the gate
Stopping to gulp from the bottle
sealed right then & there his fate

When no one left to displease
by faded, jaded gab
long last “Time gentlemen, please!”
forced to settle the tab

Stumbled out in the chilly dark
Nowhere lower to descend
than passing out in Dead End Park
All escapes come to an end

+)
-Time, gentlemen, please! = called just before closing time in a British pub; here: a call to a lost soul to change or die

edited 6/18/25 0640