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Jamal

The older man is waking up
A wiser man, he drank a lot
Now circles swirl before his eyes
Dizzy, hungry, tired of life

A painter’s past, no future’s left
All swallowed by the bottle’s best
He roams the town, he seems so free
His purpose lost, a bitter search

His blistered feet know where to go
Yet they are not to be moved
But by the ocean’s thunder
now.