A Glass

Playing back the memories in your head,
None of them particularly joyful,
But they keep coming back,
Following like a shadow,
A glass a day stops the pain.
 
Darkness is in the eye of the beholder,
Move upwards, Move on.
Yet one wrong turn on the trail of thought,
You’re back at the start again,
Lift a glass in your hand.
 
Silence is deafening loud,
As you’re left to reminisce.
Those memories are the issue,
Intolerable, Insufferable.
But I’m sure a drink can fix that.
 
Days, Months, Years,
Slipped away into, Nothing.
Clearly time can’t heal you,
 
Like a bottle of wine can.
Let the bitter spirits drown me,
Now I say, ‘Drink to that!’