My dad wrote this in the early 70s. When things were stable, relatively speaking. I can't say I'm a fan of rhymed couplets in general (unless the meter is perfect), and he definitely wrote better fiction than poetry. But the labyrinth is built around the man who penned this, and I'd feel wrong if I didn't include it. Helps me understand the way he lived and the way he thought about his life. 

________________

How can anything taste so bad that makes you feel so good.
I'd sit here on this bar stool forever if I could. 
It would be worth a million dollars for someone to find
A way to maintain that high before you blow your mind.
I've given up my only friend now, he's become a fool. 
He wastes his time between drinks shooting' pool. 
Hey! check that broad there, she looks pretty nice.
I bet if I offered her a drink I wouldn't have to ask twice.
Oh here she comes now, my God what a mess.
Well, a few more vodkas and she'll look like the best.
Then we'll tell each other lies and we'll drink a little more.
And we'll find that we're in love, though we've never met before.
The after-work crown begins to drift in now.
Steve sees me and asks "What you doin' with that cow?"
I think it's getting time to leave, the joint is getting crowded.
I know the broad will tag along, of that I've never doubted.
My high is gone, I'm really bombed, I should have left her there. 
I can't do nothin' with her now. Girl, go on, get lost somewhere.
The devil booze has got me now, might to my sorrow.
I've got to find a place to sleep so I can drink again tomorrow.