Eighteen shots of liquid sin (poetry)
eighteen shots of liquid sin
The Eighteenth Shot of Liquid Sin
The minutes pass by, the water falls, from bloodshot vacant eyes,
my heart is torn with pain and fear, the anger starts to rise.
The eighteenth shot of liquid sin can't help me to forget,
the guilt and shame I feel each day, fueled by my regrets.
I made a sacred promise, to God for my life and I, a promise which was broken when I saw my baby die.
The demon in the bottle once again posessed my soul.
The eighteenth shot of liquid sin would somehow make me whole.
I really meant those words I said when I promised not to drink,
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