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Alcoholic

in times I've rested, laid on the floor, not getting up, or answering the door, in places I have nested, a hedge or highway, bled and thrown up, friends don't call, no way, in jail, unconscious, I wake up in hell, burning all the bridges, in hospital, I fell, in rehab, i'm broken, my mind is not my own, shiver and shake, no sleep, want to go home, panic strikes, step back, end game, paranoia puts up walls in your way, maybe tomorrow I wont feel the same, maybe tomorrow I wont be the same....

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 12/4/2014 9:01:00 PM
deep excellent pen pal bless you
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Date: 6/5/2013 8:20:00 AM
David, tomorrow sounds like another day, hopefully the light that awaits you that morning doesn't bring you staggering through the floor. My real mother was an alcoholic, for that matter, i can visual the movements in your poem. thank you for sharing.. Linda
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Book: Shattered Sighs