Like everyone else, I've had my share of hard days
I seem to pick up a bottle, stuck in my ways
Drinking and drinking, until I'm stuck in a daze
My view becomes blurry, as the night fades away
Waking up in the morning, there's always regret
Why did I do that? I feel like a wreck
Still the next night the cycle repeats
Comfort in a bottle each night of the week
Bottles of vodka, tequila, and rye
Bottles of whiskey until I feel I can fly
A bottle of wine, one glass will be fine
Until I have four, waking up on the floor
It's crazy to think, some mistakes from a drink
Surprised by a child from a night that was wild
A trip to the ER after drinking too much beer
Go from having a cheer to shedding a tear
A for the comfort of a bottle of clear
I will admit, it is one great escape
Until I wake up from the toll that it takes
Comments (1)
Hoping this is fiction. I like this truth in the poem. We all get lost in something, drink. food, debauchery, you name it. Cheers for hope.