Vodka and Whiskey

He is probably sitting at home,
Tearing off the tabs of them Miller Beer cans.
Chasing away the thoughts and the memories,
That can only be obliterated with shots of
Vodka and Scotch Whiskey.

He is probably close to being wasted,
The pile of beer cans,
Growing larger,
The sound of his shot glass echoing,
Off the kitchen counter.

He is probably in a stupor now,
Any sober thought left,
Would be at the bottom of
Any empty alcohol bottle,
Or beer can.

He is probably exposing the truths,
As all the drunken people do,
Saying everything he has been too afraid,
To say when sobriety holds him in check;
But in this moment,
He has nothing to fear.
For all his demons are at bay,
And the only thing that matters now,
Is another shot of vodka and whiskey.