Whiskey

Like sunset
In a glass, yet frosted
By a few blobs of ice
A dash of clear
Setting fire to the veins
Forget all those who raise the glass
For few sip this, for the right cause
Some over aged friends
Some in solitude by a fire
There are those that raise the glass
And consume , only to be intoxicated
As such people know not what whiskey holds
As such people are drunks
My glass is raised
Only at reunion
Of brotherhood or solitude
But rare
For it takes time to age
And as such, have mutual respect