The Bottle

The light from the liquor store across the street
shines in my window,
I sit on the edge of my bed bottle in one hand shot
glass in the other,
As I pour myself another shot,
I hear the bed next door creaking loudly, and a woman
screaming for help,
I do nothing,
I take the shot and pour another,
I walk to my window and see a woman being mugged by a
very large man in a wearing a torn rench coat, he
looks up and I see his face clearly,
He has a gun to her head and still I do nothing,
I pour myself another shot, then another,
I walk out into the hallway and see a man sleeping ,
He has insects and rats sharing his sleeping space,
He shivers uncontrollably,
He is old and withered and in need of a kind soul,
Again I do nothing,
I take another shot and then two more,
I walk out onto the street bottle in hand,
I see the woman that was being mugged lying face down
in a pool of blood,
Still I do nothing but pour myself two more shots,
I turn the corner to see a man come stumbling out of a
local Tavern bottle in hand,
He starts to trip...quickly I dive,
But not to save him it is to save the bottle because
mine is empty.
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