The God Of Empty Beer Bottles
poem by:
Samantha Johnson
Written
on May 13, 2015
Shakin’ slows his steady hand He pours another special brand The God of empty beer bottles Draws no line in the sand Drinkin’ cause he has to Choice escaped the mix Everyday only one way Life’s too hard to fix Noon she brings a glass Frosted all around Lost before a drink Now he feels he’s found Slam it down feelin’ good Turns his glass up end The God of empty beer bottles Bows down once again Numbness by the minute His minutes melt away Minutes turn to hours His hours turn to days Lonely drinking never fun While pickling his brain The God of empty beer bottles Relieving all the pain The God of empty beer bottles Collects them one by one Hiding all the empties Denials just begun Life’s too hard to fix For a drunken derelict Rock bottom hits And the mud it always sticks
Tags: pain, dark,
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Christopher Russon commented on Jan 05, 2019 at 8:48pm
Wow is good or is this good,Excelent message.
Many of turn to that comfort Zone so relatable Samantha.
