No Wine Nor Song.

No Wine Nor Song.

 

 

With amputated hands
and no more music
to be had at his fingertips
the veteran from
the senseless Iraqi war,
cradled the wine glass
between his stubs
and attempted to
drown his sorrows
near his dearest friend,
his baby grand,
but it slipped
like his life,
from his grasp,
and became shards
like his arms,
so he simply walked away,
to join the homeless,
and beg for change,
that he would
never be able to hold,
his entire wealth
couched in a paper cup
as he dreamed of the songs
he would never play,
and learned to count money

with his toes.

©-MFB III

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Comments 1 comment

seasoning 7 years ago

how sad but true. Brilliant imagery

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