More Than She Loves Me

By Stone Bryson

Well my lady is a treasure

and she has a heart of gold,

most days there’s no one finer

but there are times she turns to stone.

For when the booze is flowing freely -

a nightmare born from the dream,

seems my lady loves the liquor

more than she loves me.

When she’s drinking I’m a burden

to be ignored and pushed aside,

If she cares to notice I am around

I’m degraded and vilified.

Her hatefulness and anger -

incoherent and unredeemed,

guess my lady loves the liquor

more than she loves me.

Then she wakes up in the morning

full of sorrow and regret,

it lasts until the thirst comes on

then she’s back at it again.

Well if she will not break the bottle -

then I just might just have to leave,

‘cause my lady loves the liquor

more than she loves me.

Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson.  All Rights Reserved.

Written September 2007

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