tomorrow maybe

sitting on an old park bench. darkness aproaching. sobriety far from reach. rain wipes away blood forming a red tinted puddle beneath an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. tears flow from deep within. forming in the depths of his soul. burried beneath the man they once knew. the hard hitting, strong willed, intelligent man they once knew. he sits baffled in an abandoned park. staring out over the field. shaking uncontrolably. still the moon climbs high into the sky, peaking out from behind the clouds of dispair. his only friend is the sound of the disshuffled wind as it blows hard upon his face. slowing causing him to fade more and more into the darkness of the night. alone in this world. finally giving in. with nothing left to give he slowly lifts the bottle. he olds onto the spout as he smashes the bottle on the ground to form a sharp edge. slices it across his neck and waits till morning. another day? maybe...