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Jan 2012
The bottom of this glass,
Has never been so clear,
Doused in so much thought,
Tells me what I fear.

The liquor tells it all,
Watch it now take wing,
And as they call my name,
I feel nothing.

And what would put me in denial,
To see a shining smile,
This is broken glass,
Tiny pieces. All is smashed.

If you could save us,
Slowly set me free.
The feeling hits my brain,
All is done in vain,

Behind this jester’s grin,
Reveals so many sins,
Pours whiskey in the jar,
This process starts again.
Nick Foley
Written by
Nick Foley
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