Pain Drips
It seems at times we play sad parts.
Dancing on the edge of obscurity.
Music played on broken harps.
One step away from insanity.
We cling with a fervored grip.
How we hold on is a mystery.
We try not to drink yet take a sip.
The flavor of remorse intoxicates.
From our minds the liquid drips.
The judge and jury exonerates.
They cry this guilt was never yours
Still this knowledge doesn't satiate.
For the demons aren't trapped behind locked doors
Their power is infused within our pores
For Freddie's Terza Rima contest.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013
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