What is there in the drink of life
That leaves so many dregs
To fill the bottom of the cup
With leavings unfit to sup?
What is there about the drink of life
Compelling us to take a swig,
That smells so sweet and inviting
Until the drink repeats?
Who planted this tree or vine
Of the bitter fruit still growing?
Where will I find its field?
Who will admit knowing?
The planets resources wane
And we have acid rain
But the drink of sorrowful dregs
Is one of endless kegs
If every source was located
And all the fields set afire
The cups of misery would be dry
And poets would not be inspired
A contest entry
- Tell Me of Your Misery by thedarkestjolly.
315 points, ended May 6, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments are on the poetry and it's principles
Comments
-
***
Just the right length a ok ryhming scheme good luck! -
Nicely Done
I really like your poem. Not sure but in this line
"The cups of misery was be dry", did you mean would instead of was?
My favorite part of the poem,
"What is there about the drink of life
When one takes a swig
That smells so sweet
But tastes like feet?"
Couldn't have put it better myself. Life does seem to
stink sometimes.
Great Write!
Raggedee-Ann
Adding your comment:
