Blind To the Truth
Drifting afar he sees not round the bend.
Living his days as there were more to come,
Blind to the truth he can't foresee the end.
Recklessly thinking he has time to spend,
Wastes the good days ensnared by demon rum.
Day after day in one another blend.
Just one more drink has caused him to succumb.
So many good men can't their habits mend.
His loved ones beg, he's too good at pretend
And listens only to his lover's drum.
Drifting afar he sees not round the bend.
Blind to the truth, he can't foresee the end.
By: Joyce Johnson
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment