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When seeking comfort in a cold bottle of sweet wine turns sour....

Submitted:Oct 28, 2007    Reads: 101    Comments: 4    Likes: 4   

It was behind an abandoned windmill

In a timber out house

Beyond the tangled vines

I sank in sadness

My uncorked wine

slowly becomes my best friend

Our talks were long

and honest to the point of haunting the scene

"Ah but they just do not understand"

The now empty bottle just stares at me

I kick my silent accomplice

into many pieces

Only slightly denting

the old white wall in front of me

My ex friend settles

in a pile of broken glass

I view it

as if presented at the Modern Tate

It is symbolic

an artistic whisper I fail to truly understand


I am in no mood to interpret modern art

I look around

for something else to kick


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