Written by Bobartles
If whiskey ran inside our veins,
and burned away our past,
then maybe we could break these chains
and free ourselves at last.
We’d talk about the good times,
of the way things used to go.
We’d lock our hands in darkened rooms,
and no-one else would know.
With no bad blood to hold us back,
we’d build our lives anew.
In happy times or hardship,
those fires would see us through.
Though silence leaves its bitter stains;
uncertainty and fear,
if whiskey ran inside our veins,
Written while the poet was severely sleep-deprived, Life Through a Shot Glass is Bobartles’ way of looking back on his drunken decisions, good and bad. If you enjoyed this poem please check out Harplands, another beautiful but sad poem from the same pen.