Whiskey
Whiskey
Whiskey made a fool of me
exacting misery’s price
and for its luster and allure
left me always wanting more.
Whiskey took my sins away,
but briefly, they returned each day,
edges sharper from exile,
flames new fueled by old denial.
Whiskey, promises of peace,
drunken apple out of reach,
calming seas by pouring oil
setting stage for scathing boil.
Whiskey, sad magician’s maze,
comforter, or madman’s craze,
searching in the shifting sand
for images of shapeless man.
Whiskey, warrior disarmed,
closes reason with her charm
dashes hopes on ragged shore
leaving vanquished craving more.
Whiskey made a fool of me
but surely I consented.
Whiskey made a fool of me
but sure I was demented.
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