Thanks For Having Me

He lagered his wine in record time, didn't touch the sides in fact.

Bottle number two again just flew, most nights becoming like that.

Since she’d left, he’d become bereft - of any sense of normality.

On course for calamity and “Goodbye world, thanks for having me.”

Bottle number three, goodness me – is he slowing down a touch?

Maybe so, but he’s on the snow - he’s knows it’s become a crutch.

At the end of the night, he’s still upright, almost defying gravity.

A vision of depravity and “Goodbye world, thanks for having me”.

He knows right now, he must somehow, turn it around and win,

for it’s as plain as rain that he can’t sustain, living the life he’s in.

So he’s made some alterations, some call them “lifestyle choices”,

he’s down the gym, going for a swim and listening to better voices.

Whilst not quite fine, he’s stopped the decline – aware of his own mortality

and avoiding the finality, of “Goodbye world, thanks for having me”.

He went on a date, as much with fate, friends thought they’d be a match

If only they knew, just how true - each thought the other a perfect catch.

I’m not one to pry, but as months go by, they do seem stronger and stronger

they’re taking it steady, until both are ready but he’s staying around much longer.

He’s happy at last, over the past, re-found his true personality,

he’s back to reality and saying; “Hello world, thanks for having me”.