Intoxicant Poem by Barry Middleton
Intoxicant
Age and illness devour all;
they take away the passion;
they take away the music,
the songs of yesterday.
Is there no kind intoxicant
to dull this bitter pain?
The seasons come and go,
yet unredeemed by death.
The feast is now exhausted.
I have no earthly appetite,
and all but hope is lost,
to medicate my infirmities.
Friday, January 13, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: illness,age,medical
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5/9/2024 8:20:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Such a beautiful and powerful poem.... enjoy reading it a lot! :)
Thanks Anya. I appreciate your reading and commenting.