Mom, I see the glass you hold, the tears you try to hide,
Each sip a silent cry, where your true feelings reside.
I know that Dad’s harsh words have left their bitter mark,
But drowning sorrows in that drink only deepens the dark.

You don’t need the numbness, the fleeting escape,
Your heart’s already burdened by too much weight.
I wish I could erase the pain that you endure,
But with every pour, the wounds grow less...