Mexican Prison

Crawled over the floor of the prison cell,

sweat pearls ricochet off the floor.

No date, no time, I lost my mind,

after forty-eight hours with tequila and wine.

Dear prison guard, what happened last night?

Did I go to far on the poker table in the end?

The drugs my friend, I pushed deep down my throat,

as the party kept on going until the sunrise I felt.

Guns and girls in the middle of the room,

my memories turn alive,

as if it still was last night,

where I was still confident and fine.

I look down my hand, a dry-blooded wound,

two fingers lost, and scar above.

I panic, I scream, the guard turns to me,

but I was already gone, oh lord have mercy on me.