Living with Sobriety

living 2

It is like waiting on a phone call that never comes.

Hanging on to suffering…the knock at the door…which never is completely done.

Random trees and fallen limbs…resting upon the moment of…giving in.

Intolerant brooks…calling for a misguided…long last look.

I had once found my detour in a bottle of cure.

A wrinkled hand of time…steady and sure.

But, no matter the glory of the flower…I could not outlast the hour.

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