Season's Greetings


Winter stumbles under the drunkard poet’s gratitude
The provenance of ten thousand trembling thoughts
Burning like the fireplace he can only dream of tonight

He’s smashed but the derelict has yet to disintegrate
Slouched, he thinks he’s aerodynamic for the gods who’re
Wondering if he’s hovering or merely levitating in delight

The threshold of pleasure retreating into the night
With promises of bitter strength injected at dawn-
Paracetamol greets him with the season's best

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1 comments:

Mystik_Scrypt said...

Thanks for visiting.

I've noticed that you use very powerful words to give the necessary impact in your work. Keep it up! But, using punctuation might help the readers during the progress of the poem.

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