Someone told someone else I am unable
To face society without a drink in my hand.

They were arguing the genuineness
Of my sentiments of love for humanity due

To my struggle to engage in, small talk.

Unoffended albeit taken aback I humbly pondered
On the critique seeking to assess its foundations

Diagnose myself as I refilled my glass
Emptying the bottle. A figurative light bulb

Alighted over my head accompanied by
A timid smile of satisfaction, the moment I drew

My own conclusion realising I reached a point
In my life where I cannot pretend nor wish to show

Fake interest in words even those who speak them
Are bored to utter as they secretly desire

Someone would ask them how they truly feel
Elicit the courage in them to freely express

Their unfiltered thoughts and sentiments unveiled.

Frivolousness a daunting mask far more concealing
Than the drink in my hand so yes, I indulge

In wine to allow talks about the weather
The virus, public transports, the electoral campaign,

I gulp to swallow them whilst attempting to heed
What stays unspoken without making them feel

As shallow as the small talk without which
They are unable to face society themselves.

I told myself I was unable
To face society without a drink in my hand,

Only to discover I love you more than my sobriety
Ever could suggest.

[Featured painting: Celebration of Love by Orhan Coplu]