Out of a fog and mist
I opened my eyes to see
Just what I’d done
To myself.
Drunk again, I must’ve fallen a dozen times,
And called you to say I’m fine
With some excuse why I fell other than
The Real reason why.
The whiskey bottle sat on my sink
All that night while I battled with the mists
And finally blacked out.
Coming to, I realized while I was sober
That I needed help
No one on earth could provide.
I poured the bottle out and
Turned to Heaven for help
And the mists all disappeared.
Now I’m sober almost three good years;
No suffering from Daze Gone Bye.

© George E. Thompson