Happy hour
Phillip Miller
Mixing with crowds, in a drunken stupor
no sense in my life, and as blind as
those
with voices that bore into my mind.
I need to escape from this daily grind,
but, what else awaits? What else is there!
For a man that is dead inside.
Copyright Phillip Miller
A mere snippet but it conjures up all manner of questions. Is this the first 'Flash Poem'? Thanks for sharing it!
ReplyDeleteA powerful message within a few words.It certainly does not apply to you Phil.A probing poem!
ReplyDeleteTakes us into the darkest depths of despair and depression. Very sad.
ReplyDelete