Jabberwocky

Despair

 

My last poem
My soul is sore
Nothing rhymes
I know the score
I just can't do this
Any more

 

Pass the whiskey
Pass the gin
There's nothing left
To now begin
Except the end
To welcome in

 

Pass the vodka
Pass the rum
Of all I've been
This is the sum;
Not enough
For anyone.

Comments6

  • OUTBACK

    I DIG IT ! IT IS THE WAY OF DESPAIR

  • Goldfinch60

    Good write, glad things are better.

    • Jabberwocky

      Thanks. Thing aren't better but I certainly am. We are each responsible for our own happiness in the end.

    • Garry

      Very bleak. Good.

    • willyweed

      good poem, yes in the end its only you

    • ephraim crud

      at the end of the day, we are all on our own. clever write, as usual.

    • Tony36

      Well written and expressed great write



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