Fragments of Live or Die
He wondered, had his life been different,
would that bottle find comfort in his hands,
and should the street so cold and hard,
accommodate his every need,
yet still be so unfeeling;
but memories had long melted away,
like butterflies in quiet escape,
and different could not find a plight in life.
His words slurred, illegible,
mutterings of a mind fragmented,
at times sobbing, regret his only friend,
and then, a joyous rekindling of better times,
laughter and toasting a life now gone,
as if a dream, an echo of something,
yet without grasp, like a mist,
absorbed into the darkness.
The street light in warm yellow hold,
kept him attached to life,
its very shards reality’s brush strokes,
and the night a measure of comfort,
unlike the rejection of days,
always in the way,
a vagrant jostled off to some other locale,
where sun found shadows, too many to recount.
The bottle dry, his body aching,
he begged so lowly,
hope in his eyes that shattered any who would see,
yet few pennies found his cup,
and he slumped in pensive vacancy,
his mind addled,
thoughts like thrashing birds beset on morsel crumbs,
yet no crumbs for he.
And as the day relents,
he finds a friend who’d share his bottle,
they far gone to even notice,
and so oblivion but a step away
invites a mind to rest,
and once again the street lamp envelopes,
warm under its yellow glow,
as thoughts begin to fly, fragments of live or die.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
- Brutal Night - March 30, 2021
- Like a Breeze Recalls - March 27, 2021
- Torrents - September 5, 2020
Such a lonely life is oblivion. Your expressions form such a vivid image of a man lost in the void. Well done, Tony.
Thanks Phyllis, another aspect of the human experience, when life becomes a lesser consideration and oblivion some kind answer to pain. Cheers!