PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I remember the intoxicating sweetness of what once I had

The cup’s stream narrows to a trickle

And its bitter dregs tumble into my mouth

For the same reason the potion had given me vitality

I now wither away as it fails to moisten my lips

It’s source flows only for those worthy to drink

A title once given

Now withdrawn

I’m left to mourn the death of a more deserving image 

And watch her wander from my grave

Pitcher in hand 

Smiling for the outstretched cups of other men

I stagger off into the night 

And reach for cups 

Hoping to escape this pain through stupor

And in the fog

I slip away