Choice

In need of a reminder, sipping whisky, holding on to some hope
The graceless liar money will come from somewhere
These surroundings too familiar, sucked in, charmed
And hiding in the folds of the battered leather chair
Two girls on his mind so beautiful, arms open, innocent
They call to him and pierce a bitter heart
In the same spot many thoughts and hours later
Excusing the bad choice as giving the options serious weight

He recoils from the mirror
Slapped in the face, breathing hard
His shame openly taunts him
He raises a glass to his lips
And tastes a tear

Under the influence of all that restrained him the last spark of spirit refused point blank to die
And he knew deep down what he had to do
So easy to say, so hard to enact "Maybe a little drink
Will help me think" And drifting off, spinning down he goes
The true woman and the joyful child suffer the swings
And arrows of their misfortune never earned
Within sight of redemption he saw how far he still had to go
He curls up in a corner and weeps for it all

He stares at the mirror
Slapped in the face he stands his ground
His shame still lingers, haunts him
Smashing a glass to the floor
He tastes a tear