For all those who fill there eve with alcohol
and memories sad but true and lash out at
the devil for all the pain they’ve been through.
I tell you now that hurt and pain sustained
through nights of less sleep and demons
feasting on ones soul are just rewards
for who we are now.
We curse and vomit out names we disdain,
those who left us, hurting inflicted and
suffering till the end of time when we
breathe our last.
The mirror hates us as we look into it
and smile a sly grin on our sad faces,
which we see now is not the person
we once were.
The apartment or our den, study or
luxury kingdom castle in the mountains
will not cover and hide our pain and
sorrow that awaits us every time this year.
Oh raven my friend, you flutter here and
there and mock us, as you peck at the
crumbs we leave on our tables for
your return. The cracks in our floor,
the blood splattered from our hearts
we so give up for ransom.
You know our pain, you watched us
suffer, and you saw us lose everything,
even our name.
Oh gods who tremble when you see
man’s hatred for each other, marriages
shattered, children turned against a
parent, love forever lost, only hatred
shown, they cry out, why oh why
did father leave us.
So the glass is never empty, the alcohol
flows the red wine a constant companion
for misery we seek. This eve just another
brick in our wall as we try to forget the
past, stay alive, not commit the deed of
death, not yet ready to cross to the other
side, so much to write, yet so little time
to pen the legacies we attempt to leave
to those who may care for a poet’s
insanity this New Year’s Eve.
© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved