My Last Good Fight

The bottles sit on the mantle
Slowly making me insane
Every color is different
Every color is the same

In my world of darkness
It's my only source of light
My glass is never empty
Still half full from last night

Without thought, I reach for my liquid gold
It's warm on my lips
Then I'm reminded of its gift to me

A broken marriage
An angry son

I turn and whip the glass at the family portrait
It shatters nicely
The bottles began as my ally
And end as my enemy

I wage a war inside my head
I won't let it take me

Not now
Not ever again
It's the last good fight of my life
But the first one I will win

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