i've got magazine issues (my first poem, cute)

I’ve got a lot of issues
That I never subscribed
I’ve got a lot of nothing
But no alibi
I’m a drunken preacher
With no faith
And I’m all alone
But then she asks me to stay

Cause the look and talk
Of right versus wrong
Don’t cross the bridge

The cat doesn’t get out of the bag
She knows I won’t be back

You see the chance
Of remembering, or at least pretending
Just isn’t hand in hand

Climb aboard
And then I’ll flee
A simple night to say thank you

Though I forgot the please

Remember I need you
Like a doctor's clinic
Needs outdated news magazines

My implied moans
Of a dire need of interaction
Grasp needing nothing

So the evaporated complaints
Are all pill popped with a cure
Tomorrow and the next day
Might need resolving
But tonight a quick fix
With a worthless world and a naked girl
And a couple lessons that one’s taught
But never learns

 

i should have said first posted poem