White Rum Blues

Alone at the bar, trying to drown his sorrows

wandering to himself if there's a better tomorrow

with each sip, he dwells further into his past

sitting there through the night, until the bottle spills its last

A bottle, a bucket of ice and an ashtray on his table

drinking all night until he cant stand, or is barely able

a mind already so clouded, just getting darker

once a clear picture, now blurred out by a black marker

Reminiscing about the his past mistakes
Singing sad songs, wondering what it takes
To amend his wrongs and make things right
But he slips so far,  he just gives up the fight

The bar keep looks at him, staring blindly into space
wondering to himself 'how does this guy keep this pace?'
his mind is open and free from all the poisonous memories,
only when his body is overflowing with booze, does he find his victory

The only thing that he doesn't want to is get in to a fight
because that would only ruin not only his but also everyone else's night
so he sits their, quietly and continues his reflection,
of a life torn apart by dumb decisions and rejection

At the end of the night, when its finally time to go
and he's staggers out of the bar and nearly falls to the floor
he's knows in his heart that someday he'll get his dues
and maybe then, he can find a cure to these white rum blues