She always saw the glass as half-empty,
So she peered inside to see if it was true,
Only to fall in and become overwhelmed
By the waves.
As she attempted to catch her breath,
She inhaled the drink.
Before her plunge she was highly
Depressed yet her time in the glass
Became her happy hour.
Hammered and wasted she became
By all the emotions she was tasting.
Her sobriety had wasted her time.
All this time she could have been sipping
Everything that had her slipping.
Those that view the glass as half-full
Do not understand her – there is still
Time to drink before the glass
Is near to being empty.
But now she knows better.
What once made her whine
Has become the wine
To unwind her mind.
She escaped from the glass
Unable to express this epiphany
Because her words were seemingly slurred
To those that lacked beer-goggles. They could not see.
Nowadays she can be seen holding the glass,
Taking control and drinking.
Believed to be a drunk by some
Yet she has learned that it is drink or drown.