Long Lonely Winter Night

 

      I prefer to see the glass not as half empty, but half full —  hopefully of Bacardi Gold.

 

What do I care if the glass is half empty?

 The bottle is full, just down from the shelf.

My quarters are warm, the music sublime...

 And I’ve the rest of the night to myself.

 

         Family photos bring sadness and tears —

          Some joyful, some painfully sad.

        “How young he was then ... She’s lovely again.”

           But seeing them all makes me glad.

 

A stiff drink eases all the pain, another stills my soul;

Music quiets my torment, and lets my mem'ries stroll.

 

Weird, noisy dreams assert themselves - then quietly drift away.
What care I how strange it seems — I drink Bacardi Gold today.