An Evening With Myself Poem by Justin Fitzpatrick

An Evening With Myself



I had thought
When you asked
On the distant day
I swore my last

That you had spoke
Of a wine
Asked me to sip
From your glass
and not mine

I had been pristine
Till then
I more subdued
Than other men

My risk are nil
My fear is high
My heart is empty
My glass dry

I had thought
When you asked
On the distant day
I swore my last

And I am still
Wasting away
For fear of tomorrow
Yet not drinking today

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