Liquor is Quicker ~ Philip Brent

Sometimes it is so simple to feel depressed
Just maintaining an even keel a big success
Bleak views of our ills constantly accessed
Slip into a tortoise shell, hide in that recess

I am run down, tired of facing terror, fear
In the world and what is happening here
Clamor for us to find a safer route to steer
Sad and down that it’ll be worse each year

Alone, my body slows while my pain grows
Ankles, fingers, knees, although little shows
Water and food wars, bad air, all our woes
Too late, when nuclear, winter-wind blows