Bottles (A Poem)

Promises you make
that break like crystal
under stress

Bottles you prefer
and ignore me in
my duress

Guilt drips from your tongue
and falls like acid
on ear drums

Lies spill from your mouth
and scorch like summer
sun in drought

Promises you make
that shatter like glass
meeting rock

Bottles you prefer
and it seems you won’t


Troy Norman

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