Ten years in a bottle

Weathered skin and bourbon breathe
Ten years ago, he put to rest.
With-out a sound he motions 1 more
His heart now scared, beaten and sore.
As blank a look you'll never see
The man on the stool, could this be me?
Through empty eyes and amber glass
My inter pain soon will pass.
Losses be great and reward but kneel.
Just 1 more whiskey or 2 more pills.
The scotch now rots away the truth.
This life I chose while in my youth.
  Be it happiness or sorrow the choice is yours
Thoughtfully. Careful. When you choose life's doors.