Every sober moment gnaws
The edges of his mind like a saw
It reminds him of abandoned dreams
Stupor rids him of lofty aspirations
He desires not the soberness of a judge
The verdict is often unbearable for his person
The world looks him an elevated pedestal
Saying with only its eyes ‘you are a failure’
He is every inch one, and he needs to forget that
Every single second of the day
The world does not cut him some sluck
It demands what he can no longer give
Except drunken drools and disappointment
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