Whiskey and Bourbon

For such sweet beginnings
The end is bitter and hard to swallow
For such winds that bore me upwards
Turned to a storm to swiftly follow
It's disposition to the feather
That once was lofty, high
To be brought down to ground level
And trampled by the passerby

So kill me slowly as you’re willing
And you're willing to I've reckoned
Til the wine tastes like a bourbon
And the hour feels like the second

When this draws to its conclusion
There will be naught left from the sorrow
So kill me slowly as you're willing 
But don't look for me tomorrow

Reviews

[pia]

beautifully worded !!
an enjoyable read

[GwenLark]

So enjoyable. Loved it so much

[olla]

is "they'll" what you intended.. I try not to assume typo's.. but "they will" is very different the "there will" I have never tasted a wine that aged into bourbon.. I will most likely ponder that..

[J. B.]

Oh yes! that was a typo, so thank you for pointing it out to me!
the wine line is a metaphor for the wine aging so much that it starts to taste more bitter and stronger; a metaphor to how long this person in the poem would string me along for. :)

[olla]

yes.. I did understand that.. you would have let it string out a long time to turn a fruit into a grain.. I like your work very much.. you have a strong voice.. refreshing..

[J. B.]

Thank you! :)