Out of all the parasites and addict scum
I could talk to you, though you're drunk you weren't dumb
I always wondered, through our banter of "you geezer" and "you bum"
Why you'd act joyous yet your eyes remained glum.
Could it be you were a soldier and had taken life?
Was it because this is your umpteenth wife?
Is that why you use alcohol to quell internal strife?
Old school scarred, caused by another and not your own knife.
None of the above
You confided in me, you no longer had your daughters love
Cancer had taken away your dove
Thus in vice you seek escape from the memory thereof.
Functional alcoholic is the du jour term
But alcohol enables you to function, I can empathize and confirm
Though compared to yours, my pain isn't even enough to elicit a squirm
I get why to the world, a jester's persona you would affirm.
I have to believe every cloud has it's silver lining
Thank you for making me listen despite my mind's recent whining
And for my quick to judge people realigning