All I know is it’s 11:10 at night.

Most would read a book or watch tv as they drift off to sleep.

I know I shouldn’t have this beer.

What’s the point in drinking alone on a Tuesday night.

But now it’s 11:11 and it’s time for a wish

and all I want is for this alcohol to seep into my veins.

Maybe then it will silence those demons dancing in my head.

It seems they’re having a party,

and I cannot make it stop.

It’s written all over my face and that’s why I am alone in my room.

When the demons throw a party, it’s like my happiness is out of town.

Run out by the lies the demons scream.

Now with each sip I know it isn’t right,

but every sip I’m drinking to hope.

CHEERS TO HOPE

that it will silence their whispers.

Now it’s 11:13 and they’re

laughing at me.