The Sad Bastards Club

A happy lot, us Sad Bastards.
We raise our glasses
Kick some asses
Laugh, tell rude jokes
Give the fire a poke
And throw on another log.
We talk of locks
And untimely clocks
And stocks and shares
And dual-purpose chairs
Play the organ, sing and giggle
Until 3 in the morning
When mutually yawning
We tuck ourselves into bed.
A happy lot
Us Sad Bastards.

This poem was written/submitted by Francesca Johnson.