The Last Trip…

I see it, the mirror
I see it, my face
How long I’ve left?
It’s my mistakes
I can’t even blame
The Lord for theft

Asinine I was then
Left all riches I had
For a love untrue
When she left me
I lost it all, my love
Befriended by few

I drowned gloom
In bottles so many
Count I have forgot
My old life, return
Yet pride took over
Became the plot

Now I live, do I still?
All luster lost to life
Desires so far away
Thankful, it’ll end
Not much time left
Perhaps, a last day

Am nearly there
Nearly there now
Trip will end soon
Like a dream tale
I lie there, dusted
Like hollow moon

Shared at One Single Impression (#161 Hollow),
Monday Poetry Potluck (Trip), One Shot Wednesday,
Sunday Scribblings (#260 Nearly) and Carry On Tuesday (#98)

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Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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