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Over a noisy juke box and the sound of angry pool balls, a conversation awakes a painful past.

Submitted:Mar 21, 2008    Reads: 126    Comments: 3    Likes: 3   

Mixed is the cocktail

stirred is the pain

Folds of exhaustion

get retold again

A crease in the page

aged oak reveals malt

Dirt under nail

points a finger at fault

Dizzy is the globe

that is politically spun

Shaved are the bullets

missing from the gun

Flip the weeping puddle

with crooked wooden spoon

Unfold the umbrella

seek shade from the moon

Weary knees

and blistered hands

Triangular points

reveal who understands

Laugh and swap tears

with the considered insane

Mixed is the cocktail

stirred is the pain


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