Walkin on Air

One More Dram

Searing jabs of pain
zip along neuron pathways in my brain
distorting my sight,
forcing moans and thoughts that perhaps just might
views reconsider:
alcohol is a solution, that's true,
most surfaces cleans;
yet, as solvent it problems never solves,
as drink charges due,
declares the opposite of what one means;
in my mind revolves
incoherent fogs and misty vapor:
incessant labor
as vapid excuses my heart-strings cram,
I quaff one more dram...

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
One More Dram

45,105 Poems Read