Poetry · Writing

Drinks

Crushed berries

Mixing into drinks

Serving two hundred a night.

Crushed silence

Echoing through deliquent halls

Serving one hundred a night

Maybe one or two more

Maybe only one

Screaming into darkness

Thousand nobodies turn their heads

Blinking mildly to fear scoped eyes.

Published by SamT.Gutierrez

My name is Sam and I love art. I sometimes do podcast, I sometimes stream videogames. View all posts by SamT.Gutierrez