What's in the Glass?

What's in that glass you hold in your hand?

Is it the excuse to stay out all night,
or the reason to start a fight?
Is it the pool where sorrows drown,
or the way to hide a frown?
Is it the reservior that resentment fills,
or the ammunition that kills?
Is it the comouflage that conceals,
how one really feels?

Does it make the pain go away,
or does it come back again someday?
Does it make you feel numb inside,
or behind that glass, do you hide?
Does it make you forget the way things are,
or is reality in that bar?

What will it take to make you see,
what's in that glass is killing me?
You are not the person I once knew,
and in fact, it's killing you.
So, the time has come that you must choose,
which one of us you want to loose.
Who ever said love can conquer all,
never challenged a glass so tall.

So again I ask,
what is in that glass?
Is it the courage to face the day,
or the strength to say,
Good-bye?