Once the bottom of your glass
knows your name
then you have run out of places
to hide your shame.
You thought no one had
witnessed your downfall,
they didn’t see you on your knees
when the alcohol made you crawl
or the days you missed work
blaming a cold.
You never listened because
you didn’t like what you were told.
Bloated and dishevelled
you have become,
ravaged by the drink
and the damage it has done.
Once the bottom of the glass
knows your name
then you know
your numbers up in this game.
