Whiskey bones

LukeMorrison

 Cut of the supply -

down, down, down.

Consume sobriety's lie -

drown, drown, drown.

King of the ash -

crown, crown, crown.

Cancer's fiery rash -

brown, brown, brown.

 

Dissect the flesh -

knife, knife, knife.

Not all wounds are fresh -

life, life, life.

Prophesize my demise -

Fife, Fife, Fife.

Depart from the wise -

wife, wife, wife.

 

Market of destruction -

sell, sell, sell.

Flood all production -

well, well, well.

Carve hard muscle mass -

shell, shell, shell.

Piece of serrated glass -

Hell, Hell, Hell.

 

Descend the stairs -

burn, burn, burn.

How the stomach fares?

Churn, churn, churn.

No room to improvise -

learn, learn, learn.

Ignore tomorrow's lies -

yearn, yearn, yearn.

 

Blue flowers settle -

grow, grow, grow.

World devoid of metal -

meadow, meadow, meadow.

Drink the liquid of no consequence -

glow, glow, glow.

And feel no darkness hence -

know, know, know.

 

Recovery's a fickle thing;

the cravings still sting,

but for the moment the pain is gone

and just for a moment, I'd won.

 

  • Author: Luke (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 18th, 2017 06:56
  • Comment from author about the poem: A poem discussing alcoholism and the battle those suffering from it engage in, causing them to enter withdrawal whilst occasionally experiencing the bliss that lurks on the side of sobriety.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 37
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Comments +

Comments3

  • Maria Lees

    Build that dream on magic moments
    Maria Lees

  • Tony36

    Well written and expressed Great write

  • willyweed

    Best to keep clear



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