He drinks it up, yeah he'll feel the liquor.
Drink some more, so it'll be quicker.
Never to miss the flow of cold relief,
will cure the pain, or so he believes.
One, two three,
the bottles crash to the floor,
four five six,
and he still is craving more.
Even though he knows, each one is more a risk,
the feeling in his head, is something he won't ever miss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i can relate..lol. nice work