ramblings and things
924,230 poems read
Alcologically Speaking ii
He pulled my drink carefully, placed it next to its mate,
Added it to the tally on my nearly full beer mat slate;
Just another barman in my bar ruled life
Though I suppose really he saved me from some strife
About two weeks back when this drunken local fool
Came staggering in and near knocked me off my stool.
And as no apology came I got ready for the fight
But my barman friend came and made things right
And me and the idiot bought each other a beer
And very soon the animosity had all but disappeared
And for just a while he was my bezzie friend
But not to be renewed after that night's end.
Being a solitary drinker means you don't have to speak
But it can get a little boring week after week after week
On the other hand you can drink at your own speed
And you only have to take just as much as you need.
I've got past the hangovers and the headaches they give
I just know I need my alcohol to continue to live.
Contradiction really for I know my liquid friend,
If we carry on meeting like this will kill me in the end
But that's in the far future and I need each drink
It just dulls the senses and takes away my need to think
Sometime in the future if I continue this way
Ever nearer will loom my own judgement day.
Here's a toast to the brewers, and the barmen as well
Who provide me my liquid saviour from my own private hell.