I Removed My Glasses and....

The self-indulgence of pity parties thrown in Mad Dogs with little to no bite

Sorrow dug out of sands with a pitchfork in the calmness of my Long Islands 

Was the Captain Morgan of thinning blood vessels sailing bourbon streets 

Before this tale goes any further I'll go a-head and coin the plot of the current seen (currency)

Table of contents, several digits waiting to be dialed up, and a ploy off the hook to hang your hat on 

Bred anger with pain until I broke the mold and couldn't stomach sponging Agent Orange with fear and loafing (loathing)  

The innocence of a hungry spirit and thirsty mind only to be put behind bars like tenders in a sense

Boatloads of feelings harbored on BomBays as I began to sea myself as a Patron in Kraken like legend

As a foul sport I was use to taking two shots to be technical or passing out like there's no clear cut lane to the goal

One day I found a message in a bottle it read, remove those glasses and adjust your hazy views 

A toast to sobriety