The View Of Life From Where I Reside Poem by Brooke Harms

A broken glass to toast all of those good times gone bad
To forever hold the liquid memories drowning us the rest of our lives
Covered in spider woven webs of the pas showing the world those memories and times aren't moving from their place no matter what
A candle for dim light to brighten our own dark lives
Easily blown out
Hearts just as easily broken
Wax dripping
Wick growing shorter
We are
Dying
Fading
Covered in our own drips of hardend wax
The last few drops of champange being emptied from the bottle for good
Never agian to be refilled
Never agian to be redone
Once we are empty we are Empty
The bottle can't be tipped up
Its forver pouring
The cork staying put near the flickering dim light of our dark lives
The Bible?
Well it's all got to balance on something
Or at least that is what we've all been told
Guess its better than nothing
If it itself isn't nothing
Life
It. Goes. On.