Leftover Wine
Bleary eyes search
the darkened corners
Of the strange room.
Where am I?
Who brought me here?
My mind spins
wildly in rhythm with
the quaking of my soul.
Eye's Burning
with unshed tears.
I strangle on my sorrow
as I try to recall
something more
than the taste
of left over wine.
Copyright © Patricia Sawyer | Year Posted 2008
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