Blue

Drinking myself to sleep

I pull down the shades

Have a glass of scotch.

 

I forget about the women

Yesterday’s lack of sun

And look forward to the music I will hear tomorrow

 

Take pills for the pain

But still bend over into my fetal position

To heal my internal bleeding

 

I fall dead asleep

 

 

 

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.09.18.01:46:00@NJ

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