im not a poet by any means, but after drinking my problem away tonight, i wrote this becuase it seems fitting i guess. A cold brew after a long week, taste so good. So I have another, well hell ive had 2 mind as well have a shot....... So I have a Kyamakazi, goes down smooth, so i have another and chace it with a beer. a few shots a few beers, time for a smoke. So i have one, then figiure just one more beer. So i sit at the bar, bartender coor light please. Pick it up and take a chung, look arround. Theres two people there, myself and the bartender. So I chug the fuck out of it, and figure hell one more shot, one more smoke. Bartender Jose cuervo i call out. As im smoking i relize im drinking alone, a million miles away from anything i give a shit about, hell time for another right. I laugh go in, no harm no fowl right. As i down it I relize the only thing at the bottom of this one is another shot, another smoke, another beer, a few of each im sure. Or is it....................................................could be the messed up situation i find myself in as i write this, thats in the bottom of the bottel, but hell another full one will surely get rid of it right. Has always worked before.