Furious Liquor

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Distorted memories of a hopeless nostalgic.

Submitted: January 24, 2013

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Submitted: January 24, 2013



I stare into a forbidden world,

A past left behind in darker days,

Where bridges were burnt and first impressions tainted.

I can't let go of fading memories,

I torture myself, in spite of anxiety,

What twisted nostalgia draws me ever nearer? Can I be sated?

A new road lies fresh,

And the golden bricks gleam,

But I abandon the tin man and go back to my dream. This I've created.

And now I can't rest

Till my life is just that,

A void so dark,

That even God would turn and take up his hat.

If you could see inside my mind,

The twisting turns of this ephemeral evil,

You would stagger, would gasp in awe,

Until you just could take no more.

I see nothing but a haze of forgotten memories,

Pooling in the ground like the booze of some forgotten drunk,

Who maybe once 'Dreamed a Dream',

But now he's gone, his boat has sunk.

So I stare at words of long gone friends,

The conversations one never hears,

A brief attempt to calm my fears,

Blinded by these mindful tears,

And I read through thoughts not meant for me,

Not meant for eyes like mine to see,

To smash and crack what I thought true,

The friends who smiled but laughed, it's true.

The past was dark and black as Sin.


And still I search, inside my soul,

To look for good that came from old.

© Copyright 2019 Michael Anderson. All rights reserved.

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