He’d rather drown in booze than rain.
It really doesn’t matter, for his thoughts
Are not quite sane.
For he says, “They’re both a liquid and that makes
Them quite the same.”
He wanders through his muddled mind
And ponders, “When will drinking bring
My gain?”
His body’s decayed, his mind is spent.
He wallows in self-pity and in this he
Is content.
He’d rather drown in booze than rain.
For he overflows with liquor and fills
His glass again.
Poem by LSB (PoetryWings)
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