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Array
(
[sid] => 61784
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Reaper in Every Glass
[time] => 2004-08-29 05:16:06
[hometext] => This is kind of another argument I'm having with myself about me drinking... now, it just reminds me that the only thing there is in a glass of alcohol, is death.
[bodytext] => Look deeply in your now empty glass And tell me what you see there Is it hate? Sadness? Love? Fear? Nay, it is but your own reflection The man you now know to be you But what did you look like ten years ago? Or could you not tell me Because the reflection cannot appear In a glass that isn't there When your simply still a child And alcohol wasn't introduced to your tongue Nor your mind, Was life really so bad Before you drowned out your thoughts What's in my glass but my drunken face? It is not hate nor sadness nor love nor fear Tis simply a reflection Of who I have become Ten years ago I was seven Ofcourse it is a different man It was simply a boy I don't need a reflection to tell me that ...I don't need a reflection period That was the year alcohol met my tongue But not so much my mind Merely a bitter liquid dancing on my tongue And lighting up my throat on the way down All the way down I can't tell you life was bad Because my life was just starting Before I drowned out my thoughts I ask you again As you poor some more whiskey on those rocks What do you see? No real reflection comes out of it now Just a babbling drunk But look past him And tell me who you see swimming in there Who is that man in the black hood And a pole with a sharp metal end on it Who is he? What do you want from me? Do you wish to bagger me out of my drink? I see the same thing Just a little... unstable What do you mean "look past him"? There is nothing past him but three cubes of ice Whose in my drink, it's a glass for crying out loud Who would fit in there? A pole with a sharp metal end? Does he mean to kill me? Yeah, swig that down Taste the Death dance on your tongue And slice down your throat Let him into your soul And shred it apart Let that Reaper do his job And take you now With your mother Her father Her mother And your two uncles ...Tell me it tastes good now Then again, how can a dead man reply? [comments] => 3 [counter] => 189 [topic] => 61 [informant] => asatru [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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