When old acquaintances come back
Often we lack
The will to refuse.
Many a man has, in booze
Rekindled a former desire.
The fire
Burns, and he is lost
In the pleasure of pain.
He will splash
His cash
In a manner most rash
And go down the primrose path
With a bittersweet laugh.
He deletes her number
But she
Retains his.
Tis
Always the same
Though man may curse
He will continue to traverse
The well worn road of pleasure and pain.
K Morris - Poet 
I love this one, Kevin. Among my favourite of your poems.
Thank you, Robbie. As always I very much appreciate your feedback and I am pleased you really enjoyed reading my poem. Best, Kevin