Means to an End (Poem)

Means to an End

The dull of midnight
Welcomed with open arms
Still, drowning in self-pity
Four walls make a speakeasy
Bottles poured to hollow
Spillage is always more or less

That good woman vanishes
Every image is erased
A not so forgotten past
Something is always remembered
Even if just an outline remains
The woman once stood

The damage has been done
Every night is the same story
History repeats itself over and over
Duplicates do not make a series
Repetitiveness is stuck on a loop
Carry on for the sake of fate

A penniless doom is upon
Every choice drew a straw
The only variable is an ending
But not on this midnight
The fatal conclusion remains not
Eventually drunken hands find a pen

Copyright © amarmirch |


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