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Whiskey Bottle Lover
by Robin Leigh Miller
Because There Was God
To bow down and worship money
My life would be incomplete.
To dine on only bread and honey
Would not long be very sweet.
Danger lies in the petty excess of all.
Success is the nature of balance.
If I drug myself to a pitiful thrall
Heaven gets less than a glance.
If I puff my breast before the knife
And cry fowl when my blood flows
Who can I blame for my leaving life
When my senses I blithely forgo?
Responsible I am to and for me
And otherwise I should do my best.
I can only control what I can be
And set hopeful example, the rest.
Giving of myself to care for another
Is the great letting of my selfishness.
An example learned from like no other
Turns self destruction into worthiness.
So in the end does it matter a bit
If I worshiped drugs or money or odds?
Did it show in the way I got on with it
That I cared because there was God?
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