The More I Drink

Trying to forget a wasted love affair
The more I worry about it,
The more I drink;
The more I get to thinking,
That something stinks,
And the more I think about it,
The more I fret,
The more it torments,
The more anxious I get.

And I drink again to lose myself,
Inside the empty glass,
Evaporating like the spirit,
That shoved it's bad luck up my ass,
That conquered my heart and soul,
And hung me out to dry,
And I curse the day I met you,
And the day you said goodbye.

I know alcohol is not a cure,
But it sure does help forget,
It burns away the aches and pains,
And the maddening regret,
It kills the niggling nostalgia,
That plagues my every thought,
So I'll keep drinking whisky,
It's the only friend I've got.

The more I think about it,
The more I worry,
The more I'll drink whisky;
Whisky be my quarry;
And the longer I live,
The more I want to die,
So I'll just keep on drinking,
Until my final goodbye!

Published: 5/11/2020
Bouquets and Brickbats