I used to not drink alcohol at all, I hated it
Bad memories without even drinking it
Now it helps me sleep so I drink a bit
Is alcohol a friend or a culprit?

A drink with sleep on my mind
A quick one instead of the eternal kind
I'm getting drunk to forget myself
I feel more empty than that bottle on the shelf.

I hate the taste
Yet I down another glass
With this poison laced
I wish I could pass.

Is this the only cure for my pain?
And all the agony that follows
From drinking I know I should refrain
But it helps me drown my sorrows
I raise the glass, put down my pen
I'm drunk so I wont try to **** myself again