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OLD WOODEN STOOL

Poetry By: Charles Mausolf
Poetry


So sad you could drink to much?


Submitted:Mar 24, 2012    Reads: 23    Comments: 4    Likes: 1   


I sit on an old wooden stool

Listening to a tired radio play country

The moments die as I sip my drink

Slowly, slowly, killing her memory

Thinking only about the pain burnt in my mind

That pain in the back of my eye

I forget the time we spent together

From the time we danced in the rain

Or that moment we first kissed

Another sip and another one die's

So I sit on an old wooden stool

Time passes as addiction grows

Listening to tender people laugh

Slowly, slowly, killing her memory

My sight begins to fade

The mind drifts to other things

Memories of the time we made love

That forgotten movie where we held hands

I laugh to myself

Killing her memory one sip at a time

I stand from that old wooden stool

With last call coming from the barkeep

Tomorrow I will be back again

Slowly, slowly, killing her memory





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