Sobering.

Hit the nail on the head.

Commune with the dead.

Skin yellow, eyes red.

Don’t want to go to bed; aching liver instead.

Hands shaking; eyes of lead.

Isn’t it sobering?

Isn’t it a buzzkill?

Isn’t it a love thing?

Isn’t it sobering?

Sobering.

Purposeful obfuscation of venomous intent.

Ingurgitating a snifter of dissent.

God damned smoldering liquid.

Spirit’s high; could go blind.

Crack a bottle across the head, oozing platelets; it cuts me still.

Isn’t it sobering?

Isn’t it a buzzkill?

Isn’t it a love thing?

Isn’t it sobering?

Sobering.

Blushing face accentuates blood pressure.

Could use another meeting; without all the god.

Create another nostrum fissure; relative to the odds.

Heart rate slowing; sweating and wishing for that moment of exultant intoxication.

My opus of decimation.

Isn’t it sobering?

Isn’t it a buzzkill?

Isn’t it a love thing?

Isn’t it sobering?

Sobering.

Ask and I’ll tell; but don’t expect me to say much more.

Irrational, with only so much time to live; that you would delay the inevitable for crippling geriatria.

Acrimonious over my acidulous hops; just leave it be.

I bet my beggar’s dollar you can’t find a better waste of my time.

For me it’s a matter of culture and taste.

Would you rather it be dope or pills?

But you could find something wrong with it; I’m sure you will.

Isn’t it sobering?

Isn’t it a buzzkill?

Isn’t it a love thing?

Isn’t it sobering?

Sobering.

You never learn.

Hit the nail on the head.

Purposeful obfuscation of venomous intent.

Could use another meeting; without all the god.

Create another nostrum fissure; relative to the odds.

You never learn..

Isn’t it sobering?

Sobering.

Sobering.

I bet my beggar’s dollar you can’t find a better waste of my time.

You never learn. –Michael Kabu Ament