The bottles almost empty

The bottles almost empty
And I’m alone
I have no one to call
On the Telephone
Porno flicks are playing
They have no effect
Why does my life feel like
A shrinks pet project
And I can’t even understand why
I think of her and
I start to cry
And inside my head
I wonder why
Did I let this
One slip by
And I cry
In my drunken haze
I notice that
My meters all wrong
But my rhymes down pat
And my eyes are watering
To form of tears
And my body shakes
Because of my fears
And I can’t explain
Through my pen
Why I drink, but
I’ll try again
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