Pity Pot Blues
I know a place called the Pity Pot Blues
Sometimes it is where we sit
Usually when we are so consumed with self
And really don't give a ####.
Everyone is out to get us, nothing we do is right
Don't say a word just leave me alone
I am sitting on the pot tonight.
Poor me, poor me, pour me another drink
Is what will happen if we sit to long
Judging the defects of others
When we should be working on our own.
It's up to us how long we sit
In this place called the Pity Pot Blues
But be forewarned if you sit to long it could be the
Death of you.
Rick Lamp (c) copyright 2010
Original poems that are specifically recovery related
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