Weary Traveler

Here I sit, wine glass in hand. 
Half a bottle gone.
I am just waiting,
for the pain to stop.
I ache with a loneliness,
that never goes away.
Once upon a time,
I had a feeling of happiness,
but I let it drift away.
Just sat there motionless,
as I watched time destroy it all.
Now its just a daunting memory,
always close enough to cause hunger,
but never close enough to grasp and nourish,
this weary traveler.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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