Headache On the Horizon

I drank a glass of cheap red wine And then I drank another. A headache will be coming soon, The kind you cannot smother. I wonder why, when I was young, My drinking had no end. My glass was never empty – On that fact, you could depend. But as I age, I shake my head And really must decline When someone offers just one more Tequila, beer or wine. For if I cave (and did tonight), I’ll surely pay the price. One measly drink, in tiny sips, At this point must suffice. My younger self was well-equipped To drink all night for fun, But sadly now I’m better off If I imbibe just one.