The Glass
The Glass
The wine sparkled in the glass,
As he lifted it toward the light,
How sweet it looked, warm and red.
The light danced cremson in the glass,
A bright balm to his tormented soul.
At last he brought it to his lips,
Expecting it's sweetness.
But alas, he flung it from him.
It shattered on the dirty wall.
As red as blood.
Copyright © Wanda Daugherty | Year Posted 2019
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