The art, adventures, wit (or lack thereof), verse, ramblings, lyrics, stories, rants & raves of Christopher R. Bakunas
Monday, December 2, 2019
A Quality Of Agony
Watched the drink slip out his hand
As if it were in slow motion
Cigarette smoke curled out of her mouth
And wrapped itself around her neck
Like the hands of a depraved psychopath
Itching to take a life
Fought his way out of the room
And across the promenade deck
The stuffiness of the air making it hard
For him to catch his breath
Couldn't quite get a handle on things
Felt like a total wreck
Maybe if everybody would have just shut the hell up
For one damn moment
He would've given anything for silence
Would've handed over a blank check
Couldn't hear himself think
Couldn't hear his own heart beating
She stood in the corner bleary eyed and out of date
Drowning in her sorrows mixed with triple sec
No comments:
Post a Comment