Yet another "split" produced THIS poem. Like a lot of people, I tried to "forget" the pain of such things by the copious use of ALCOHOL!

Through the bottom of a glass

The world seems much clearer, Through the bottom of a glass,

No future to think of, And no trace of the past

And, when I'm alone, I can't help but feel this way,

And begin to long, For the end of the day

And I know that there's others, That feel this way too,

Face in a bottle, Not knowing what to do

As you drink, you forget, But you still feel no better,

The glass keeps on going, But I still can't forget her!

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