what is it
that is missing
from this picture i am
painting?
nothing i've been saying
makes sense
to them,
i see that now.
and to hell
with this winter
it took away my moonlight,
ah...to hell with the moonlight.
i don't need it
anymore.
the only thing i need now
is cigarettes and
sour mash.
i walk to the bar,
they point
and they
laugh.
gawking...
hissing...
worthless vultures, they are.
so proud of themselves
for being drunk and having
'friends.'
and i think to myself
where the hell are MY 'friends'?
'hey, bartender!
i'll have a napkin!
and a pen! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Merited or not, the comments seem a little mean. I judge on structure and content and this is well said and well spelled. Often spelling spoils the content but not here. Read mine – Critics – Adeline