Friday, July 22, 2011



One shot, two, then three
Drowning stress;
Troubles blur
And fade until my head hurts
And my stomach aches.

Just one more
Hoping for comfort
Finding none;
All I have
Are empty bottles and dreams
I never reached for.

Caren E. Salas

Note: This was inspired by a prompt from Robert Lee Brewer's website "Poetic Asides". The prompt was to write a poem having to do with something being empty. Don't worry friends, it's not autobiographical. Well, the bottles are ours, but it took a long time and lots of salt and ah...I better quit while I'm ahead. Suffice it to say, I haven't given up and don't ever plan to. If any of you do relate, talk to me. Really. No, really.

1 comment:

  1. Great descriptive writing as always, Caren and thanks for the visit and your kind encouragement.