I've drank many potions in my dreams,
I've closed the bar past midnight it seems.
I stumbled towards and past your view,
forget we ever met the potions are to do.
Yet, here I sit with a picture in frame,
the potions never put out my views flame.
I always remember when he sells me more,
and stop at your view that I pasted before.
I can say my silent words with my drinks,
and convince myself the us of us shrinks.
That devil, I'm making him rich,
poisoned, I'm dulling your views itch.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 28th, 2025 07:02
- Comment from author about the poem: brain wanted this one out.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments2
A curious and mind provoking poem. Nicely done
Excellent write
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