(This fictional poem takes place in the year 1984.)
I can't believe what the USA Government has done. They've raised the drinking age up to twenty-one. I just turned eighteen last week. Now I can't get drunk and it's bleak.
Before I can buy any booze, I'll have to wait three years. I really want some vodka, Jack Daniels and a keg of beer. Why did the government have to do what it did? It's been my dream to be the town drunk since I was a kid.
I bought a fake ID but the liquor store owner knows it's phony. I told him that it's genuine but he says that's a lot of baloney. He just grabbed me and threw me out the door. It looks like I won't get any booze at his store.
I asked my uncle to buy me some beer. He got so angry that he boxed my ears. Now I can't get plastered and that isn't fun. I can't get any booze until I turn twenty-one.