Headache on the Horizon

I drank a glass of cheap red wine
And then I drank another.
A headache will be coming soon,
The kind you cannot smother.

I wonder why, when I was young,
My drinking had no end.
My glass was never empty –
On that fact, you could depend.

But as I age, I shake my head
And really must decline
When someone offers just one more
Tequila, beer or wine.

For if I cave (and did tonight),
I’ll surely pay the price.
One measly drink, in tiny sips,
At this point must suffice.

My younger self was well-equipped
To drink all night for fun,
But sadly now I’m better off
If I imbibe just one.