Unlock solutions to your love life challenges, from choosing the right partner to navigating deception and loneliness, with the book "Lust Love & Liberation ". Click here to get your copy!
Unlock solutions to your love life challenges, from choosing the right partner to navigating deception and loneliness, with the book "Lust Love & Liberation ". Click here to get your copy!

Darren Scanlon

Abstract

5.0  

Darren Scanlon

Abstract

One Last Shot

One Last Shot

2 mins
359


The whiskey stains upon the bar

Tell scores of many sad tales.

Of love, loss and tragic lives;

And drink to drown out the wails.


Another dejected, washed out soul

Seeks solace within a shot glass,

To wash away the mournful memory

Of another heart-broken pass.


Another wheeler-dealer,

Another gambling god,

Another weary player

Bet his life upon the sod.


The rings around his swollen eyes

Mark the toll and the tell-tale signs,

The vacant stare; the unshaven chin,

You can read between the dark lines.


Just one more shot to dull the sting

Of a life that’s long broken down,

Another stiff drink to soothe the scars

Of one more tired washed out a frown.


He staggers out 

Into harsh lit streets,

Head gently spinning 

On unsteady feet.


He knows that it's near, 

He can hear the call,

Just over the road 

And down past the mall.


Shuffling along 

With an unsteady gait,

Cell phone ringing, 

“Who cares, it can wait”.


Eyes now blind 

Behind stinging tears

But it's not enough 

To allay his fears.


And there it is 

In a hazy dream,

A small footbridge 

Over a lazy stream.


He grips the rails 

With trembling hands,

There’s no point telling her,

She won't understand.


Then just for a moment 

He catches a glimpse

In the softly flowing waters 

And it makes him wince,


For the wretch that he sees 

Is not the man that he knows;

There’s a stranger staring at him 

From the dark water below.


With a shuddering sigh

And with tears streaming down,

He's leaning over;

Feet leaving the ground.


For a moment he's flying,

So alive and so free,

He’s no longer afraid,

Just a strange kind of glee.


He doesn't feel 

The welcoming water

As it closes up, overhead.


He doesn't feel 

Its clutching chill,

For his soul has already fled.


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