Mornings are worst; bed sheets tangled on the floor.
Concealed in my cocoon, just sleep;
One wretched, drunken heap,
The radio drones in the corner,
Another day; hip hip hooray.
I think I need a drink.
Afternoons are average; slumped over on the couch.
Brooding over past regrets;
Scan the floor for cigarettes.
Time ticks by to ten past twelve;
Smoking like there's no tomorrow;
Sometimes I wish there wasn't.
Evenings are dire; filled with irony and sad satire.
Retreat to an empty room; close my eyes.
Too many thoughts as I scope the walls;
Distorting, contorting lies I deem truths.
Light up a cigarette; hush the turmoil in my head,
I think too much.
