Mihaela Pirjol


A Glass Of Wine


The Spring in sorrow
Blurred my tomorrow,
My crimson wine
Won't promise Divine.

Inhaling the smoke,
Can't fix my broke
Of heart that's dying,
Can't hold its crying.

Promise me bright
On tomorrow's sight,
A dream to attain
No more in disdain.

Sing me a song,
Regain my heart strong;
Bring me sunshine
In this glass of wine.

Submitted: Friday, March 07, 2014
Edited: Sunday, August 17, 2014

Topic of this poem: love


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  • Rookie - 408 Points Anthony Burkett (10/19/2014 12:35:00 PM)

    The bottle is drained... and all that remains... is the sweet refrain... of memories. Porto? (Report) Reply

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