August 31, 2013

Some Nights

I've been awake at night,
Wondering over things,
That disturb my might
To curb my cringe.

As I lay awake,
And think to myself
To work in ways
That I cannot help.

So, I go to the kitchen,
And I take a glass,
I stare at the sickened
And dirty shard.

I pick up the pieces,
And get another quickly,
I pour some water,
And then add the whiskey.

I drink to myself,
Celebrating nothing at all,
And that's what melts
The vile and gall.