Friday, January 23, 2009


The palpable feeling of drama
Roaring through my mind as
I begin reaching for THAT glass,
Transfixed by the tiny rivulets  of
Moisture tracing a steady path
Downward, only to end up at
A cigarette burned bar top.
The voices are saying "it's ok,
This will be the ONLY one."
The lies continue piling up
While the ice creates a 
Tantelizing vision melting
A path down the side of the glass.
My mouth is dry, parched lips
Thursting for the goblet's offering.
"What is the harm?"  I ask myself,
Right hand trembling as I reach out.
"It will ONLY be this ONE............"
The darkness engulfs me, the drama
In my mind explodes, giving way
To a solitary jouerney to nowhere.

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