Devastated men once young,
Are now trying to climb out of that pit of lonely spaces,
And somehow fill a cup which has never been empty.

Young men staring at the reflection,
The lake saying nothing back-
Wanting approval- the hands of a healer.

Pour him another,
Light up again,
Numb the senses until memory is just a word.

Once someone's baby
Now all grown up,
Their faces long in the setting sun.