Their voices call to me
Old friends whispering
pleading and entreating
Their siren song
lures me back
to the rocks…
And neat too
and of course straight up
ice cold
gin
(how I loved that smell)
lukewarm beer
and cheap red wine
You never wanted
the credit,
you didn’t want to
hear I did it
all for
you…
You, not me.
I was happy
in my sadness.
I loved
that sweet glow,
took comfort
in my
sweet blurred
pain
So
it’s only fair,
don’t
blame
yourself now.
(As if you would
or ever did)
(9/21/05)
Richard Quinby
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chimera/
