He sinks further into bitterness
with each sip of oblivion.......
slurping....gulping grudges and blame
with every malicious mouthful.
He remains suspended in cynicism;
hurtling missiles of misery mixed
with murky twisted memories in an
attempt to justify his tangled truth.
Untruths in reality, but his realism
is unreal.....swishing, diluted by
the destruction of hate; imbibed with
one more beer or glass of Merlot.
How sad this man frozen in animosity.
What a waste of precious time.
Life languishing in antipathy.
Put that bottle down sir -
drink this instead, savour it,
smell the bouquet, Beaujolais...
swallow the future, and spit out the past.
Copyright © Helen J Radford | Year Posted 2008
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