Slip Away

The drink isn’t tasteful,

But it cures the thoughts.

The freedom it gives to me—

To walk a dangerous walk,

One without regrets, in all hopelessness.

Not where I belong, but my heart has stopped here.

I beg myself for change.

I beg myself for grace.

I give no mercy.

I drink.

A glass of wine each morning,

My endurance grows—

To deal with the job and the people it holds.

It pays,

Pays me to stay stagnant,

To face a life with truths untold.

The silence of love is comforting.

I know it's there—but where?

With those funds, I wash away the sorrows,

The sadness.

I beg for deliverance

From this daily glass.

This too shall pass.

Eventually.