No Wine Nor Song.
The end results of War
No Wine, Women 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 the glass slipped
like his life
from his grasp,
and became shards
like his arms,
so he simply walked away.
He joined the homeless,
and begged 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.