Empty bottles, empty dreams


United States
41° 52' 6.564" N, 71° 23' 18.15" W

When day becomes night

What's wrong becomes right

Sin has no shame

All wounds loose their pain

The night of the wild

Their howls to the sky

Forgetting the day

an unreachable high

vision blurred

words slurred

struggling to stand

the life they have

is falling apart

in the bottles in their hands

This poem is about: 
Our world


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