Not Long Left

Rookie (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)

1.The First Drop Smile To The Last Drop Shatter. - Poem by Not Long Left

the unmanned boat drifts across oceans
a lslave to the will of the sea, passing shores
and winking lights. Never shall it return,
in time it will rot, open up, surrender.
rising one last time before swirling into its grave.

he always smiles when savouring the first drop.
Memories of mussel eating on a bay in France
as cautious crickets crooned in the distance.

half way down, never half way up comes seeping
the bubbles of bitterness, the cold shoulders,
the laughing boss, the mocking cash machine.

Swirling the last of the stubborn drops he wars
with silent rage, flashbacks of happinnes always
bring out the fragility of his self.

Bottle of the floor, body in crucifix mode,
arms rest upon the arm of the armchair
everything is empty no matter how much he fills,
just three stage memories and a bellyful of booze.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 16, 2006

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 19, 2010

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