Self-Pity In a Glass
When your fragile mind from your drink deceives
You barricade your thoughts with angered sound
With tongue of venom, your dulled mind perceives
And find harsh words you chose go round and round
This silent empty cauldron of desire
Satisfies when your glass is filled to brim
Finds a thirsty throat to now conspire
And turn to stone a lovely Seraphim
Who sits alone in realms of dark and cold
With the saddest loneliness defiant
And remembers passing themes that are old
To search each shadowed pain lost and quiet
You relive moments spent and drink to more
With glasses empty on Dawn's fading floor
7/24/17
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2017
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