Confessions of An Alcoholic

It's a plum, saturated red Swirling in my glass for me This cabernet with a nose on it Flows with a rich viscosity Or a tangy, soury lemon Crisp, bitter and icy cold This martini sitting next to me As I write of stories never told Usually I am impartial to A tomato juice, olive and some lime Stirring any ingredients From the fridge that I can find Yet, these are the glorious These are devils I cannot stray When I sit back, fix my glass And greet the end of day These are confessions Of an alcoholic as I drink I fill, I refill, countless times So much I cannot think I do not foresee my stopping This madness will ensue Until all that I have worked for Is gone in what I say and what I do