Drinking In Sorrow
The man in the isolated bar
Had come in a dust-engulfed car
From a destination, very far
Like the far-flung star:
Via routes of more sand and less tar.
Now, drinking to be calm,
The stuff, a believed balm
His cup plastered to his palm
Not likely to occasion him any harm…
It’d been the poorest harvest in his farm!
A drinking in sorrow
By one bound to borrow,
Certain that this life is hollow
And it’s best of tracks, not one to follow.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
