Poor me. Poor me. Pour me another drink.
And so I sink…
To levels,
Where I don’t need to think.
Life sucks, and I am stupid, there is no point to this.
And so I wallow,
In self-pity,
Chased with alcoholic swallows.
I have no determined destiny,
No goals that I can think of,
I’ve forgotten how it feels,
To love or even be loved,
Sadness washes away,
With a twelve pack of beer,
Nothing makes a difference,
Except my inner fear,
The one that haunts me, through everything,
Drunk, stoned or sober,
The dishonesty that comes from me,
That wants it all to be over.
