Ode to a Bottle of Bacardi Rum

Oh, instrument of my approaching doom,
how you do shine at me.
Are you trying to lure me into a fishnet of folly,
as you did to father and brother before me?
Please go away,
for tonight I am trying to be strong
and resist the temptation of your siren call.
I have listened to your love song before,
believed you when you showed me the mock-pleasure of your depths,
but, oh, how I regretted following you in the morning.
Please go away (or at least be quiet), I beg
for if I let you deceive me again,
I will wake to find that
a fisherman's nag of a wife
has used my brain as a battlefield.
She adores throwing her best crockery at her hen-pecked husband
and running after him, swinging a sledgehammer,
leaving my brain a shattered mess she sweeps up
and under a blanket of confusion.
Oh, instrument of my approaching doom,
how you do shine at me.
I'm coming in.
I think the water will be fine.
At least until the morning.

This was one of the Meaning Of Life poems. Two things about this poem - One, alcoholism is hereditary. Two, I'm a Pisces (fisherman's wife, siren call, are you noticing the symbolism?) and a book I once read on astrology stated that Pisces have a tendency to gravitate towards alcoholism, drug abuse and have difficulty finding long term relationships. A former friend's comment when reading that passage was "Huh. Looks like you're going to be a drunk slut." Nice, right? This is why she's a former friend. So, since alcoholism runs in my family and I can get depressed all on my own, I avoid alcohol. It took me a long time to realize I can have fun without involving liquor.