The Last Drop Of Alcohol Poem by James McLain

The last drop of alcohol from yours my glass lip
and has led to my,
numb mind stemming from pain subconsciously.

I was unthinking once famous but now long dead,
through rings of smoke and the look of purple haze.
Taken from the past the future holds each of my,
our fatal condition.

Choosing to live,
my grief is frozen pitied remorse concerning those
a life is taken.

Home is just a word, a place a very dark park,
a shadowed niche,
a dimming switch inside a mouth then swallowed.

Again tomorrow comes and it is not that soft upon the eye
drifting by a window has it's harkened in my last sunset.