Perched on a stool, I asked for a drink.
Scanning the room, I gave several people a wink.
I had many more, at least five shots I think.
My glazed eyes stared blankly.
My eyes didn't blink.
I rose from the stool to a floor that apparantly did shrink,
Unaware of how badly I really did stink.
Swaying to and fro, I signed the tab in black ink,
Then headed for my car, listening to my keys clink.
I had driven a short distance when I felt my heart sink.
The kid lying in the street was to my condition linked.
It was a nightmare. The memory ugly and distinct.
What's worse, after murdering, before locked in the brink....
I admit, I wanted yet another drink.