Empty Glasses

I sit in this bar
That i come to many times
When I am down.

I vainly believe
That the alcohol in this beverage
Will appease the feelings
That are pulling my soul down.

But after shot after shot
Of straight tequila
I start to realize that
All I am really doing
Is filling my empty glass
With a new liquid.

All I am doing
Is layering the solution
With another layer of
Temporary joy.

This is nothing more
Than a quick fix,
A short buzz,
A temporary sense of euphoria.

The feelings that are
Keeping me down
Have not left me,
But rather,
They hide behind this beverage.

I know now that
If I continue this route
All I'll do is
Make the problems grow
At an exponential rate,
Replacing one demon with another.

Yet I look around me
In this neon-glowing bar,
And realize that the
People around me are also
Floating in the same boat as I,
But instead of trying to find
Paddles to row the boat,
They simply lift their empty glasses
And ask for another drink to fill it.

They just don't get it do they?
The solution to putting out a flame
Is not by adding fuel to it,
But rather going out to the damn sea
And letting the waves quench the flames.