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Bottom of the Bottle

Some say its a disease
Call it what you please
They will not hear
They have a job
A search that never ends
They have to find
the last swallow of
the poison called alcohol
The self distructive search for
the bottom of the bottle


The job pays in intoxication
The pleasure of oblivion
The loss of the realization
of the passing of time
Day after day they search
of the freedon of drunkeness
Only to find the
prison of booze
the unknown cell at the
bottom of the bottle


Beg, search and borrow
for the money to buy a drink
that won't last for tomorrow
Pasted out by ten
Drink still in hand
Tomorrow the search
starts all over again
as sure as it began
To find the
bottom of the bottle



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Page 10 Artwork
Page 11 Photos
Page 12 Poetry


All poetry and other writings here are copywritten 1990-2004© by L Murray