The Bitter Drink

If you're to tell me that I'm wrong
I might accept it,
I'm not as vain as my companions
tend to think,
and if you'll tell me I'm a jerk
I might embrace it,
I tend to go two steps too far
with shots of bitter drink.

Some call me doomed, but I just laugh
at their misfortune -
they'll never see what lies beyond
my blanked out stare,
and if they'll dare to buy me drinks
I'll take them gladly,
but I'll ignore their condescension
with a deadly stare.

This rugged stool gauges a war
against my stature,
as the barkeep's aiming shots
straight to my head,
and if these walls could really talk
they'll probably shush me,
though they should fear the next misfortuned
that would talk instead.

Author's Note

If you're intending to comment on the rhythm, please bare in mind the person is supposed to be drunk, and that I was quite tired as well :)