Tuesday, April 19, 2011



Despite your potential
you insist on being right
So much so that it tears you apart
like a huge rip across an ocean

You flee into a bottle
with nice white labels
and forget everything
including your children.

It's not how low you can go
it's about the dark story
you are keeping to write.
You are only as nice
as the secret stash of your wines.

You drink to forget
Yet you live to remember.
Over and over again.

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