Stumble in, half past one.
For a while, the pain is done.
She left me, I know why.
Break the habit, I did not try.
My grandchildren, I shall never see.
My son just says he can’t trust me.
I know the sight oh too well.
My familiar place I will tell.
Bottom of the beers I drink.
Mind drifting as I think.
The only place I return to
is the bottom of my bottled brew.
