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25 years, 3 days - Shelved
by Jason WardellI was a bottle of Bourbon
and someone bought me.
Nineteen dollars and eighty-
four cents, came to twenty-
something, a little change,
a receipt, paper bag, and
a short walk, straight home,
then thrown on the shelf,
in the back.
I was hindsight defined,
and in two or three years,
I seemed like a good idea,
but I’m not barrel aging;
I’m glass bottled. I’m just
getting old, I’m not getting
better.
And it’s only the married girls
who tell me they can’t believe
I’m single. 08/11/2009 Author's Note: Not bitter, just completing stuff in my journal.
Posted on 08/11/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jason Wardell
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ava Blu on 08/11/09 at 01:08 PM I didn't see bitterness. I see a level of self-examination, internal understanding that many are too afraid to see. I love this and I relate. |
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