Trying not to be weighed down in dread
I trace the rim of my glass
While my thoughts delve in the past
I dip a finger in the liquid fire
And question why is my soul so tired
Slowly I take another sip
And let the whiskey touch my lip
An attempt to drink away my pain
But still I feel the same
Does this glass hold the answer I seek
Or will it just make me weak
Again I reach for the bottle
And pour yet another swallow
An iternal struggle that I fight
And each day starts anew, my plight
