Booze And Disclosure

It's the most wonderful time,
Of the year! 'hic'

Booze and disclosure of those,
Seldom sober.
And making decisions on fiction to vision.
These silver haired snow birds,
Long passed their prime.
Living with wishes to turn back the times.

Fearing to let go their hold,
On bent shoulders.
So old they've grown not to notice,
What's over.
Yet they keep hoping a past to relive.
With power grapping,
Unwrapped like kids' gifts.

Addicted.
With image.
Power and prestige.
Although denying fiction believed.
Deluded and duped they dismiss honesty.

'All I want for Christmas,
Is my two front teeth.
My two front teeth.
To implant permanently.
And...
Silver white Winters that melt into Spring.
What will now happen,
To my favorite things?'

'That depends.'

'On what?'

'The successful outcome,
Of your rehabilitation.
Including your survival,
To cure you from historic hypnosis!'

'That's preposterous.'

'So says the Rhinosaurus.'

'What?'

'Release...
The shackles from this fossil.
Remove the hold on this old fogey!'

'What's happening?
Where am I?'

'This?
This is reality.
A reality...
Messed up where you left it.
Crazed!
Hungover.
Deluded and protected to defend!'

'None of this makes sense.'

'You're kidding?
Was it before or after,
Being detoxed did you notice.
Or was it the awakening from hypnosis,
You now want to pretend amnesia!'