inside a whiskey bottlei wallow.
waking up in cold sweats
feeling hollow.
another drink until
tomorrow.
sometimes this truth is
hard to swallow,
unlike the whiskey
that drowns my sorrow.
in the future-there lies
a past.
things i've done come
to haunt me, Alas.
seeing horrible visions.
my life
aghast.
from this bottle.
i'll drink my last.
--michael l. lewis

1 comment:
cool poem, I run a blog Ezine for poetry.
http://vintagepoetrypublishing.blogspot.com/
Post a Comment