Alcohol is a poison they say,
And I daresay they are right,
It is not cyanide it’s true,
Its modus operandi is insidious though,
It makes people change,
Brewery sponsored Hydes,
More primitive,
And somehow diminished,

As the venom is imbibed,
None prove unaffected,
Gentlemen revert to swine,
Dames start to shriek like banshees,
Pacifists become drunken brawlers,
And men of learning act like toddlers,
Common sense is suddenly rather rare,
Brains in inebriated flux,

The toxins incubation period,
A night on the town,
Painting the streets bruise-purple and red,
The poison does its work,
Leaving its victims ruined and awash with vice,
Flush with embarrassment,
Depositing an inhuman husk,
Laid beside a porcelain throne.

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