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»Brown Bottle«

by Dzumbu Mmbara, July 16, 2015

His eyes sunk in their sockets
less drunk like other days
but his spirit is low
fading with his dim eyes

'Son, give me the brown bottle'
He reaches out like a beggar
all he wants is his last sip
out of a life lived in agony

It was never a life
after all the money is made
and many friends made
all he yearns for is another sip

To part ways in peace with his brown bottle
as fractures of his life remain pieces
that he leaves in this earth
for some to talk about

They will talk
long after the end
what will remain will be murmuring
of a life that was purely mirage

We saw it but not really
We heard about it but we heard nothing
for it was neither this nor that
it wasn't here it wasn't there

Such is life after all
What we hold dear
Sometimes fades with time
and all that remains

It is the brown bottle
that held so much joys
and so many tears
just like his black life.

Written: July 2015
Tags: Life Personal Relationships Sad

The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on July 16, 2015 under courtesy of the author.

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