He was drinking,

Drinking to dissolve the pain of struggle and too much pride.

Drinking to reassure himself that this too shall pass.

Tired of wondering when will be his last day on this mortal plane.

Will I live to fight another day?

Growing from the ashes of the ghetto,

and making the success his own.

He was drinking.

Will he become a product of his environment?

“Why must I be burdened with this torture to please others?”

Is this what he wants for himself?

Is this really how he must live?

All he can remember is that…….

HE WAS DRINKING.