Apr 2015
The old man
was the last of
the lining in
the bottle of
whiskey.
Sticking to
the glass and
loving us
with red blotches
and leather belts.
Pain, he drank
it down.
was the last of
the lining in
the bottle of
whiskey.
Sticking to
the glass and
loving us
with red blotches
and leather belts.
Pain, he drank
it down.
