From The Vine

A small glass of juice from the vine.
Oh! How it soothes my troubled mine.
My time is nearly gone, and is no longer
sweet or kind.

But another small glass of wine will
take away the loneliness and pain
that haunts my aging mind.

No one really knows, for I fly no flags,
no emotions do I display and to speak of
troubles, only weakness will show this way.

One more glass of wine and all my pain
and troubles will disappear and I’ll
feel just fine! And no one shall ever
notice the tattle tell sign.

One more glass of wine and I won't
give a damn if the sun doesn't rise or
the moon dosen't shine. My troubles
will be in a single line…for they will
all be drowned in that last small glass
of juice from the vine.

And I’ll be feelin’ just fine!

Jackie R. Kays
©05

No! I wasn't drunk when I wrote this, but I should have been!...smile.

Comment On This Poem -- Vote for this poem
From The Vine

[ Control Panel ]
Last 100 Poems