-dry-
-Daily Poetry #13, February 10, 2017-
Word: Dry
In the glow of the evening, snow falls and litters the ground,
Because of the chill in the air, no one to witness is around.
In the loneliness of the alley way, a single person is there,
Without a destination to arrive to, all they can do is stare.
Hands tremble from not just the cold, but from anxiousness,
As blood stains the bricks behind them, with no more and no less.
Those shaky hands that are cracked and twisted reach down,
And fumble to find the familiar pack, but only causes a frown.
“I'm fine...****! I'm fine!” A cigarette falls from between their digits,
And the man curses over and over, but he only sighs and fidgets.
Finally grasping a cancer stick between his fingers,
He tries to light it but fails; the anger lingers.
“I...I'm okay! ****! I'm okay!” He repeats, but the pain is clearly there,
But he knows this is what he gets, for no one will care.
The man opens his eyes when he feels the cigarette finally burn to life,
And on instinct, he winces as he reaches for his knife.
“How long were you planning on living this way?
I knew this would happen, and today was the day.”
Sighing, the man inhales once more and laughs to the sky,
For it wasn't just his sense of humor that ran dry
Copyright © Frisk Carris | Year Posted 2017
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