Poem -



Echoing words of my insecurities,
The bottom of a glass is a question never answered,
A shadowing curse of my reality, I just want to feel loved, a poisoned liquid is my blanket,
Dear bottle,
Wrap me up,
Wrap me up with your falling stories,
Pour another,
Pour another so I forget my worries,
You taste like my troubles,
You taste like my demons,
But you're my blanket, you're my friend,
With a slice of lime until the bitter end,
Sometimes we play hide and seek,
I search the cupboards when I am weak,
A few drinks and you make things right,
I know I'm losing everything in my life,
Drunk with hazy eyes and a fake smile,
You're my friend, my listener for the night,
I'm an alcoholic, hopeful, I've still got fight,

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Gerard McGowan

My dad's dad was an alcoholic, Christmas was though growing up for my dad. One Christmas my dad said they had nothing to eat so his dad walked down to a closed butchers and put a brick through the window and stole a turkey, the local guards saw it and didn't do anything.

They were poor because of addiction, they were poor because he was weak.
They were poor, because of drink.

Great write wayne, it's hard hitting and real.


Wayne Stubbs

It's so hard watching someone you love or loved with this addiction, I know from personal experience, thanks very much for commenting and sharing your story 😊

Cherie Sumner-Taylor

Hi Wayne....You capture the struggle of alcoholism so accurately.Β  No one wants to become an addict....but it certainly overcomes their will and causes such heartache to them and all around them....They desperately seek hope. Great portrayal.Β  xo ;)Β 

Wayne Stubbs

Very true Cherie, thanks for your lovely comment β˜ΊπŸ’–