The Drinking Game

Published April 20nd, 2014

I walk a thin line.
Every sip risks a stumble.
I play mind poker
With memory chips to fumble.

I walk a thin line.
I let out a silent chuckle.
I sip from a glass
Gripped with a white knuckle.

I walk a thin line.
The pot�s full of promise.
I had raised my bet
With a hand most novice.

I walk a thin line
With confidence unshaken.
I down my last glass
To dance with the mass,
Yet the couch I awaken.

My memory chips were taken.
I walk a thin line.

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