He suddenly glimpsed the
Sad and anguished face
Of his wife in the mirror
Behind the bar, partially
Obscured by a bottle of gin
He turned around on
His creaky old bar stool
And heard the whimpering
Crying voices of his kids
From the juke box
He closed his reddened eyes
Fished in his pocket for
His last few dollars
And hoarsely ordered
Another glass of whiskey
Broke and drunk he
Stumbled through the door
Into the enveloping night
Wondering again about
What he had become
Thinking of his family
Knowing it was too late
But clinging desperately
To the hopeless hope
That he could change