He decided to hang up his darts
bin the arrows for good now
the line and length had gone down the dumper
Now the friendly pub banter had evolved into
mean-spirited barracking. They called
him an itchy twitcher, a wobble lobber, the
pant-wetting double dropper
Profanity had become
their lingua franca
Plus they crowded him. He could smell
the Monster Munch on their breath
'It's only the Weekend League Barry'
Also the fuzzy carpet triggered his
heart arrhythmia and tunnel vision
'It's only the Fox & Hounds Over 50s Baz'
Yes it was time to throw his arrows
down the well of amnesia
Also, being paid for a victory in ale
was an insult to a teetotaller
'You were so insulted you drank it anyway'
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