When will this soothe
Help me to forget the night
Slip me into some numbness
That I am no more remembering
The sorrow of my piteous heart
To often had I chanced it
Always without reward
That little remains intact
That which stains my memory
I look to wash away
To drown in a bottle of wine
The last escape I know
Sat waiting for it to take effect
To grant me some salvation
It persists in granting me this
Will not let the numbness begin
So all I have for company each night
Is a bottle of wine and a broken heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem