I silently sit in sin and ponder
how it is I wound up here:
a drunken fool with no promise
of brighter days ahead.
I remember nights spent
awake thinking of her,
replaying the dreams I've had,
like the one where she
lunges into my arms and
proclaims with a kiss that
she loved me all along,
while I smelled the scent of
cinnamon on her breath,
persimmons on her skin,
and lilac in her blonde hair.
Now the clock strikes 2 am,
and misery gains another companion,
as I'm forced to use my sleepless nights
to remember dreams of better times.