Is it the Irish gene
within me that makes me
drink and then cry,
is that what makes me
fight with myself
then wake up in the morning
asking why.
Do I use it for a crutch
in order to give me an excuse
to hideaway from everyone
and act like a recluse.
Why is it so hard for me
to accept my situation,
is it because I am to proud
to ask for contrition
Is that the reason
I always reach for the bottle,
unable to cope
with living life at full throttle
instead I cower away
when life gets a bit tough
believing anything I may achieve
will never be thought of as good enough.
