A beer fills me awake for hours, causing me weak in my knees.
I can still sense my intellect but it keeps bragging in the midst.
I want to free myself, be ecstatic of all the substance I hate.
Delight my heart with resignation.
Be mindful without hesitations.
But only dead air rattles my imaginary taste.
What am I thinking? my thoughts asked what makes my soul haul this feeling?
While I’m sober, I can restrain my complaint,
but now with just a beer, it warns me strain.
I am dead tired, my whole body pains,
Not even a dozen of medicine could help it within.
Waking up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep again,
My soul is shouting, not needing to feel the pain.
Why it bothers me for all the things I cannot have?
Ever since I was young, I played this game a lot.
Why am I alone in my exhaustion?
Where are the people I called my own?
As I continuously think of silliness,
I couldn’t do anything, but to make this clear,
In this cruel, unbiased world, nothing seems will change,
Except the taste of this luscious fucking beer.