A bit darker
~L.~



Empty Bottles


Wicked lies awashed in sugared sweetness
slip easily from the tongue of snakes,
alone you sit at the bar,
trying to drown sorrows, forget mistakes,
run out of tears to cry;
Never feeling good enough and forever wondering why.


Always yelled at when things go wrong
the first to get the blame,
but trying to please all the same
Life is such an unfair game.


Donít want to quit living but
Donít want to live,
another empty bottle means
got no more cares to give.

5/4/19




Poetry by liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 245 times
Written on 2019-04-06 at 07:45

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Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
I can hear a blues singer out of Mississippi with a voice of back-road gravel and untellable myriad pains sing that last stanza. Wow. Thank you so much for posting this one.
2019-04-07