I have lost who I was, I have let myself go for far too long.  I sit almost every day pining over love I pushed away.  Drink after drink, shot after shot.  Sitting in my own failure I fault no one other than myself.  I created what I've become.  I have the power to change but still continue to set in on the shelf.  I tell myself tomorrow, then the next day.  Weeks pass as I look to get that last drop, one more drink, one more night. What was I doing?  Sight lost again.  Might as well pour another.  No worries, I'll deal with it Thursday.  Hard day at work, still have Friday.  Friday is a weekend, better pour another, I can wait until Sunday.  Monday is here, what happened to Sunday?  No worries, I still have Tuesday.