Untitled
Sorrows are a necessary evil;
For who can tell joy without the backdrop
Of its cruel, melancholy sister?
But such knowledge is little consolation
To the embittered heart;
Broken and racked with pain,
It cares little for such simple truths.
Some bearers of these ravaged vessels
Seek comfort in the prospect
Of drowning their sorrows with so much bad spirits;
Having abstained from such recourse,
Others talk about them;
Write about them.
Some of these try to bear it stoically;
Like myself;
Instead of drowning my sorrows,
I drown in them.
Copyright © Andy Sprouse | Year Posted 2011
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