The Poison

Team Renfield

Oh this poison that we drink
As one more year goes down the sink
One more year of growing older
One more year I could have been bolder

Oh this poison that I seek
One more night of endless sleep
One more day through eyes I peep
Falling in a formless heep

One more day I must arise
Turn my face unto the skies
Blearie eyed and fuzzy tongue
No not drink or over hung

A year older just
Face the world again I must
Shoulder to the wheel I lean
Looking for what I have forseen

Wondering if that day will come
Goodbye here and hello some
When I arrive at last
Welcome the cold winds blast

Author's Note

Your next prompt is a title. This title will be "The Poison."

authors note: Somehow this years birthday, my 46th, has hit a lot harder then any of the others.

Reviews

[.]

. oh, what a beautiful song about the blues ... i feel like singin' it ... i guess we have to go through the blues ... to find newer hues ... maybe ...

[JelliFyshKissUs]

Never thought of living another day as slowly drinking the poison of death. It's in the cake. You must stop eating it every year.

[Wondering Mind]

Years pass us quicker by the year. I stopped counting after ..Wait, I can't remember.
Lovely write.

I feel you on this for sure.

[Closedown]

I love it as it is. Don't change it. At all. Renfieldians unite!

[Marie Harrison]

I think this is my favorite poem of yours that I've read. I've read so many that I've enjoyed too. This is my fav line One more year of growing older, one more year I could have been bolder. The entire poem is remarkable!

[Dinesh Sairam]

There's nothing wrong with the imagery. But the meter is a bit shaken and no punctuations too. I will recommend this as a perfect poetry:

Oh this- poison that we drink,
One more year goes down the sink:
One more year of growing older,
One more year I could've been bolder!

Oh this poison that I seek,
One more night of endless sleep:
One more day through from eyes I peep;
Falling into a formless heap.

One more day must I arise-
Turn my face on-to the skies
Bleary eyed and fuzzy tongue;
No not drink or over hung.

A year old and older just;
Face the world again I must!
Shoulder to the wheel I lean-
Looking for what I have forseen!

Wondering if that day will come;
Goodbye here and hello some;
When I arrive at last--
Welcome the cold winds blast!

And I'd also recommend a change of words usage for much convenient understanding of the message. The first and foremost mission of poetry is to get the message across-- Every other thing comes after.

Keep writing :)