The Sin Of Gin Poem by C.A. Morrow

I've reached the bottom of another gin glass
still this torment and pain won't pass
The bar seems one huge waste of rubble
What it states is internal struggle

She reaches over the wet counter divide
A barmaid trying to fill an empty void
Made-up face with lips crimson red
She winks to state she's good in bed

And as my eyes of pity to her rise
I see a look of tension in her eyes
For there between us is the ghost of you
laughing like Satan at the unchosen few

So I stand and ask for the tab
She knows I'm just a rat in your lab
And as I stumble out the heavy door
I see my life in vomit on the floor