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.