Sober Friend
Grieving without wine
I became the sober friend
Without intention I hear
The ice in their glasses
When I answer the phone
It is almost all of them
And I am surprised
Belonging to this club
For years knowing
The phone was a trigger
Thinking I am missing
I try to imbibe only
To find my glass half
Full in the morning
Virtually untouched
I will not go back
As it is a slippery slope
I am only too familiar
Confusing drink with
Sadness I stay clear
TobeTTĀ # 15