My shaking hands gripped harder,
Wishing my Irish coffee was stronger.
It wasn’t a sunrise I had wished for,
I can’t handle much more.

My palms were faced down,
I watched the wine bottle as I had since dawn.
The day was at it’s height,
Challenging my ability in this fight.

My tapping fingers were feeble,
I wanted a scotch, double.
It wasn’t a sunset remotely calming,
The night was just damning.

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