THE KEY

THE KEY

Lost in the bottle of broken dreams
Is the past you once had or so it seems
It lies somewhere near the final dregs
As it sits on the shelf it begs and begs

It numbs the present and sharpens the past
But you cannot remember the happiness last
It shouts from the cupboard unseen and hid out
And gnaws at the fabric of nagging doubt

In the cold of the night when resistance is low
Alone in control but you secretly know
That the call from the cupboard is stronger than you
And you crave the harsh touch of a drink overdue

Reluctance is feigned in the silence of night
Your need now is great for a liquid to bite
And the call is too strong from behind the closed door
You vow just one drink but you know there’ll be more

On the table it waits the unbroken seal
You know what is fiction and that which is real
As you scribe on the bottle a line of no more
A gestured futility you know you’ll ignore

Glass upon glass as you drink you detest
As you shorten the odds by one drink more or less
And lost to the haze is picture you seek
Of a life you once had when it was not so bleak

As you sink to the depths it is there beyond reach
In the sad empty bottle with no lesson to teach
But still you can’t touch it, the same every time
Yet you buy the next bottle in shift paradigm

The bottle is in there, the cupboard now locked
So you think that will slake your craving now blocked
As you see in a mirror that you need to be free
It is then you remember that you hold the key

JP.