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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Nightly, She holds the bottle tightly And drinks away her life Thinking I don’t want to be like me. She drinks until she thinks she might be Somebody else, Or at least the pain eased slightly. And even if she wanted to, She couldn’t tell you what is wrong Because nothing’s wrong She’s just not strong Enough to walk the path she chose to walk on. And when advice isn’t there It’s the bottle that’ll help her along And give her strength When her heart is too weak to be strong. You think she’s happy Cause she laughs when she holds it. Mistaken happiness But she escapes it all for a moment. You like the fun her So you hang out when she’s drunk Get her drunker Take her home or take her number And then do it all again Until you’ve done her Or you’re done with her With no intentions of ever loving her. The fun is done you’re sure And the girl who cries at night Isn’t as fun as her. Over time she doesn’t cry. It doesn’t do her any good it's like A drug which no longer gets her high. So she drinks to suppress the pain that’s left And drown the sorrows of depression Deep inside. The tears that surface make her weaker So she keeps drinking And digs the well a little deeper. Who would dive so deep Just to see her? So they only see the surface, Damaged goods Who would keep her? So you buy another drink Then you screw her and you leave her. We’ve seen her Standing with a man Bottle in hand We didn’t save her either. Dec. 14, 2006
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