Anchors v.II

[Q]

floorboards soaked
as beer's imbibed
and spirits rise.

my heart is like an anchor:
cliche, and shackled between rocks.

admitting wrongs is like posing ugly questions.

no matter the answer,
the reasons are wrong.

another form of sadness is longing,
and another form of madness

is hoping.

whatever i've done,
whatever comes,

i'll answer for it all.