Lucid Drinking

As I sit here

Nursing a beer

Facing up

To the cold light of day

It is crystal clear

To me now, dear

You never loved me

Anyway

Wounded

They
say
you
shouldn’t
write
when
drunk

But
what
else
will
help
deal
with
this
funk?

At
least
beer
allows
me to
release
that
valve

And my
heart,
somewhere
along
the
line,
to
salve

With A Twist

Is
it
too
early
to start
drinking

She
asked

As
this
is
too
much
to bear

That’s
exactly
what
I was
thinking

He
said

As
he
pulled
up a
chair

Home Alone

It’s Friday night

And I’m here alone

In this house

We used to call home

There’s nothing left now

Just an empty shell

With me here alone

Living through hell

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