Morning light through
Shuttered blinds
Sitting hidden
Within obscurity.
Memories flickering
Like an 8mm film;
Handwritten notes
Creating mementos
Within a musty journal.
Ticks of the clock
Grow silent;
Eyes fixated on
The bottle of Wild Turkey.
Only the aroma remains.
Raising a toast,
With an empty glass,
Towards happiness
Recently snatched away.
Replaced with the burdens
Of a curse that remain
unexplained.
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