Solid and Solitary

A New Year.
Bang.
Boom.

A good start
I would say.
sober,
solid, and
solitary.

But today I'm feeling kind of
foul.

I'd be lying if
I said that staying in
wasn't easy.
I have no one left man.
I've ditched just about every
back-alley buddy
that I could be found dragging
along with.

A tragic fact:

I've got a thousand mouths to drink with
but no hands to
hold.

I've very few bastions
left standing out there.
If I fell over
walking down the road and
became chow
for crows and strays I
would only know a handful
who would know
the difference.

Now listen,
I'm not searching for pity pal.
I'm just trying to tell
a story.

So as all of humanity
clinks glasses
and auld lang synes
in a great refrain,
I've got plenty
of nothin'.

I promised myself this year,
that come next first of Jan
I would be new.
New path,
new relations,
new love.

And I always strive to keep
my
word.