By The Bottle by Stefan Guaiania

Drip, drop, drip drop
The sound of one that cannot stop.
The pain you cause is one too great
of all the fish, you caught the bait

flip, flop, flip, flop
the sound of a man about to drop.
the smell of dying pride and hindered judgement
just another junkie with his substance.

Days and months go by, you remain the same
another moth that strayed away from the flame.
this one path was one i did not intend
it’s hard to watch as your close friend.

The glass in your hand is the apothecary’s poison
another drink thrown into the liquored ocean.
As i sit next to you, in your coma state, time sometimes flies
only i could tell your problem, only you could open your eyes

Drip, drop, drip drop
The sound of one that cannot stop.

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