Don't look in Ollie Embry's eyes,
whose friends once numbered two.
Today he pulled a loaded gun
and blew a mind onto
the gin and whiskey bottles
left upon the bed,
all of which were empty,
like the words left there unsaid.
Where whiskey talks so freely,
the listener must pay.
Where rumors turn to ravings,
the truth is turned away.
Don't look in Ollie Embry's eyes;
cold as a mountain sky,
for in them hide twin demons,
that he named, "You" and "I"
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