The Spirit
by
Roger Crique
(Age: 52)
copyright 08-14-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
To pour from this bottle I must;
For the spirit within me wanes.
Maladies afflict my mind.
This spirit will ease all my pain.
The spirit I take for this spirit,
Reminds me to pour all night long.
Oh, heavy heart, how can I mend your pain
but without this spirit that consumes me?
For she will walk away tonight.
Never to be seen or heard from again.
Her spirit died long ago
and mine will surely follow.
So, I pour till the morning sun!
Perhaps my spirit will desist;
from feeling such pain when she's gone.
We'll both go to sleep tonight
and rest till the spirit is done!
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Boy, this is a bit gut-wrenching-- the desperate grieving over a loved one, and resorting to the quick fix to numb the pain. I felt, though, that the last stanza was a bit awkward, particularly the the last words, "till the spirit is done."
I'll drink to that! Loss is a hard thing to take, but you can escape the pain in your mind. The only problem is that you wake with the same problem and a headache! Anthony
And in the morning the same problem is there, maybe a little fuzzy until one is fully sober again. Too many people resort to this 'spirit', but it is a spirit of lies.
I wrote a similar poem called "Too Much Too Drink" found at http://www.prose-n-poetry.com/display_work/14716
I hope yours is a work of fiction, as also is mine.