The Pit Of Despair

Im Nick Robertson By Im Nick Robertson, 12th Jul 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Humour>Poetry

A comedy poem exploring a hangover. Waking up after a great night at a house party, However you only went to the party because a friend's friend fancied a girl who might be there and although you don't care, you where promised a free beer. Enjoy.

The Pit Of Despair


I woke up, head twirling, sounds wurrling, throat sore
A pain from all the hurling done the night before.
Voice groggy, my eyes foggy as I try to lift my head
Which is fused with the sheets covering my bed
Or what I believe is my bed at this moment in time
But soon discover, it’s not actually mine.
Where am I? I wonder, its dark in this place
I lift my hands; rub my cheeks to bring life to my face
My eyes blink heavy, try and focus on the light
Shining through a small window, which I think I might
Try and open to let out the horrible stench
Like a trench in the war, pain hangs heavy in this air
For where I am, I realise, is the pit of despair

The pit of despair is an interesting place,
It serves as punishment for our teenage race
Who go out on nights to drink, and drink, and drink
With no worries, no questions there’s no time to think
Just dance and drink and drink and drink
For teenagers its fun, they don’t realise the link
Between, drink and drink and drink and drink
And being sick for hours in and around the sink.
So the pit or despair is a place of punishment
Where teenagers who drink too much must lament
For the shit they said, or the girl they kissed that night
Or the drink the dropped or that scrap of a fight
The pit makes you hate yourself, makes you learn through pain
Makes you shout that old lie, Ill never drink again

So I had awoken in the pit of despair in a random bed
Its hurts to move and I can’t believe my head
Is throbbing like I'm being punched in the face
It’s already started punishing me for my disgrace.
It takes me 7 and half minutes to sit up,
I try to work out where I am but I give up
Turning my head I see bodies on the floor
Like deadly mines left from the world war
I get to my feet knowing that if I wake
One of them it might as well be a bomb for god’s sake.
So I stand, the world moves around
I can’t see the floor or the ground
So I sit back down till my sight regains,
Looking around trying to fit faces to names
Especially the girl I've left alone in the bed
Trying to remember what I did or said
I’m hoping I showed her the charming Nick
Cause she looked quite fit even with the sick
Stain on her top, right back to the matter in hand
Getting out of this random room
Before the smell turns it into my tomb.
I step across the first body that is in my way
‘Precision Tip Toeing’ well what can I say,
The figure doesn’t even notice, doesn’t even start
isn’t even breathing! I panic, but he farts
So I relax and hold in a childish urge
To laugh out loud and completely disturb
All the sleeping lions, so they can all realise
The pit of despair will soon be their demise.
I pass a couple lying together, the blokes hand arrest
On the half exposed girls left breast.
People asleep on anything they can find
Pillows, cushions, clothes, some don’t mind
The bare floor, with nothing but carpet
A decision that they will soon regret
I’m almost at the door of the room
When suddenly a noise fills up the room
My phone was ringing in my pocket
Because I forgot to unset the alarm I set
On a weekday to wake me up, I get it out
Turn it off and check about
The room to make sure I didn’t spoil
Anyone’s drunk dreams about flying and football, marshmallows and…soil
I jump the last body to get to the door, grab the knob
But the door won’t open its stuck on a nob
Who thought it would be a great idea, he decided
To block the entrance with his drunken head.
I wonder if I should wake him,
Roll him, kick him or make him
Get up and move, I decide rolling is the best plan
To I take my foot and whisper “sorry man”
I push his forehead away with my foot
Till the door is free and I can put
This whole experience
Back behind me in the distance.

I’m out of the room, In a house I don’t know
With pictures of people on the walls to show
Who lives here but I don’t recognise
Anyone, the girls or the guys.
I look around quickly to find my shoes
One was on the window sill the other in the loo,
I’m starting to feel sick as I tie my laces,
So sick that I start looking for places,
I could be sick without causing too much mess
But the place I found wasn’t the best
This sudden need to puke make me panic and run
And end up standing in the kitchen.
Throwing up in a place, the worst decision I’ve made
I was sick in and around the microwave
When I was empty and done
I thought it best. To run.

I get out the front door, take a deep breath and sigh
Thank god, now where the fuck am I?

Took me 4 and a half hours to get home.

End.

Tags

Comedian, Comedy, Comedy Writing, Hangover Drunk, Humour - A Silver Lining, Humourous, Humourous Poetry, Humourous Stories, Humourous Story, Nick Robertson, Poetry About Life, Poetry And Rhyme

Meet the author

author avatar Im Nick Robertson
Hey I'm Nick Robertson. Actor, Writer, Poet, Comedian and none of the above. Enjoy...

Follow me on Twitter! @ImNickRobertson

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Comments

author avatar Rathnashikamani
16th Jul 2011 (#)

Lovely comedy poem!

Wonderfully carved!

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author avatar Im Nick Robertson
16th Jul 2011 (#)

Thank you very much, I'm glad you like it!

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