That unsteady stepAs you walk in
Late at night.
Those reddened eyes
As you try to focus
On the door knob.
That slur in your voice
As you talk to me
Unaware of what you speak.
That recklessness in your manner
Which you will forget
Before you wake up tomorrow.
That unguardedness in your action
As you stand without consciousness
Unaccountable for all you do.
They say passive smoking hurts more
Maybe passive drinking does too;
For I can neither forget nor forgive.
Maybe I should stop you
From your daily little trips
Down those meandering lanes.
Or maybe, I should start with some too.
Perhaps, to abstain is worse: it must be better
To drink and forget.
