PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

this bottle dangles from my fingertips as i rest wearily,

eyes blood red, face staind with tears and dripping

nights like these are the best for us

i never forgot how good this felt

that is a promise, i just made the sacrafice

the sacrafice that would make us more than children



growing up too fast has a toll it takes

together we may have made it

but as this bottle slips from my hand

i am shaken back to thought

shaken by the thought of you



in one night

you realised that regret.

i layed there for days

in the bottom of that bottle,

as you forgot,

sunny days of californian sunshine.



bloodly and bruised i pull my bottle back to my heart

dutch courage, the luck of the irish

this has many psudonims

yet all it is to me is hope

regret washed away by the hope of a bottle

and i will continue this intill i am clean



shattered, broken and dirty

i find a new place to call my home

i find a new place to rest my head

to rest my heart, to rebuild a soul

i need to taste this again

i need to know that i can continue