One by one they would go down.
Drowning pain in a bottle named Crown.
Masking life's worries, for a quick fix.
Deceiving people in a life of tricks.

Lie after lie, I would convince myself.
Everyone around me knew I needed help.
I lived so blind thinking all was fine.
Until that fateful day I crossed the line.

How is a man to know he is so sick?
When the drink itself is the fix.
Opposite ends of the world I lived on.
Up and down a constant lie, a constant con.

A sober life is what I have achieved.
But make no mistake I can be deceived.
By thoughts I am cured, will be my curse.
I must understand Ill end in a hearse.


A.Emmi 03/25/18