A poem by: Francisco Dosal

He was always empty.

She, brim and willing.

Til she could give no more

Broken heart. Spirit aching sore.

Vacant bottles.

Glasses dripping wine.

 

 

-Dont’ forget to get your copy of my newly published novel, “Beyond The Good & Evil,” at www.beyondthegoodandevil.com

 

 

 

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