The first Pint

The week was long, they worked me hard,


Outside, sun beating down in relentless shards,


Teasing me, taunting me, calling my name,
‘

Put down your tools, join in my game…

’
No! Continue to toil I must,


To earn my bread, a sorry crust.


But after the train, and my journey home 
I necked that beer….

…ahhh, first pint syndrome.

© David Preston, Beer Tinted Spectacles 2012

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