The glass fell over the edge,
The drunk fell with it,
“Call an ambulance”, thinks the drinker,
“No no, sleep it off, I’ll be fine”.
In the drunk’s mind,
tomorrow’s another day, don’t think about things…
In his stupor,
with blood spewing,
bathroom towels become,
the cure of the moment!
Waking up the very next morning,
He looks around his house, exploring.
Finds blood and glass and a lonely telephone,
off the hook, buttons bloody, ready to go.
Homemade stitches, and stitching them in to skin,
is harder than you’d think it is.
Luckily, alcohol takes away the pain,
Ironic isn’t it? It was alcohol to blame!
The drunk stitched his body up,
And finally said…”enough”,
He shuffled on down to a Church hall meeting,
were he unloaded his repentance, begging and pleading.
But the church kicked him out on his butt,
on account of being a lousy drunk!
“The Hell with this!”, said the drunk with bloody scars,
“I’ll make my own Church, and welcome those with shady pasts”.
He did make his Church too,
and got Tax free status.
Every member left soon,
After he drank all their chalices.
The drunk accepted his life,
Made a suicide pact with Christ,
No one could help his problem,
He poured wine into a Tax Free goblet.