Shots

One shot, two shots,

Three shots, four.

When will mommy realize,

That she shouldn’t drink more.

Five beers, six beers,

Seven beers, eight,

If she doesn’t wake up soon,

She’s going to be late.

Nine glasses, ten glasses,

Eleven glasses, twelve.

When will she learn to stay away,

From the bar shelve.

One hour, two hours,

Three hours, four,

Mommy still hasn’t woken up,

Watching her is starting to become a chore.

Five hours, six hours,

Seven hours, eight.

I’m starting to grow tired,

I can barely stay awake.

More hours passed,

it’s now midnight,

I’m starting to think,

Mommy lost this fight.

More hours passed,

Sirens filled the air,

I try to tell them,

Mommy isn’t going anywhere.

They but a black tarp over her,

Like she was a piece of trash,

Then the men in blue,

Found mommy’s stash.

It’s been two weeks,

I’m staying with a friend.

I’m waiting for mommy on the couch,

I’m sure I’ll see her again.

12 years later,

My grave they’ll soon dig,

Thinking of my mother’s passing,

I take another smoke and swig.