All You See is a drunkard on the skew

Hand full of bourbon,

A head void of thought

With scent that reeks of a night good for naught

All I see is a memory

A ghost of what used to be

Of a man of most charming disposition

And most dreaded of devils

It has made him empty

Has caved him whole

Left him to patch himself up with ***** and whiskey

All I see is a friend long forgotten

Of a man long gone

Replaced with empty bottles and a head full of cotton

I turn and look at the man on the skew

He looks back but does not see

His eyes an unfocus void not upon me

I turn

And I leave

All I see is a drunkard on the skew