The Happy Home/ Drinking And Depression/ The Deep End Of The Pool

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing, My Poems

“A heavy glass
Solid cubes
Grapefruit juice
And you I choose.”
These be the things
He needs to sing
On autumn days
With broken wing.
“They speak
Of heavy hearts
But seldom note
The leaden mind
Behind dark eyes
Blank thoughts
And stares.”
He sees these woes
But cannot feel
Crystalline decanter
Sparkling enchantress
He hears promises
Peace and ease.
Liver speaks
Tastes like wine
Not so fine
Depression’s not too bad
Heartache may soon pass.
Luckily our dear
Lost friend
Holds a fluid pen
Writes or walks around
While all the while
Thoughts define
Times’ silent prey
A worm-like creature
Crawling up the wall
Down the stairs
In the heart
Fragrant air
Makes fresh
So fine
Treats divine.
Surely he adores
More than liquid love
And more
Than flying out the door
(And definitely more)
Than lying on the floor.
It appears
In spite of things
He will wait
Upon the spring
Inhabiting his own
Bell  jar
Passing by
Neighborhood bars.
Miracles will never cease.
Marriage is one
You cannot teach.
His is one a lovely find
Patiently waiting
Through the grind
Learning how to live beside
A  sometimes lost
And crazy mind.
“I see a way
Up to the sky
And someday
I will
Learn to fly.
Until then let me
Cast aside
A strong desire
From this
Lost world
To run and hide.”

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