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My Own Therapist

Can I stop drinking, from these days that seem longer. Test will power to the limit, then become much stronger. Wish I can tell my family, that I am bad, I'm a drunk, they'll never understand. The feeling of being sober, is worst then being alone. Maybe I should die, or stop being a moan. I cannot leave my family, so I keep breathing in this world that I walk through. I'm lost in this mess, with no one to talk too. So until my last sunset, that lays on my path, this bliss I say goodbye to, that I never loved.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 8/29/2011 2:55:00 PM
Hi Ryan,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I think I have read this before, very sad...but a great poem. I understand it completely as you know. Really good Ryan. Lynn B.
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Ryan Jackson
Date: 8/29/2011 5:09:00 PM
Hey Lynn, thank you. I did show you this one a while ago. Thank you, You are my spiritual motivator in life :)
Date: 8/19/2011 6:05:00 PM
What a sad poem, old habits die hard, I know as I was a smoker. I hope this isn't about you my friend, but being as we write about what we know, maybe it is. Hugs to you, Elizabeth
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Ryan Jackson
Date: 8/21/2011 5:06:00 PM
Hello Elizabeth, thank you for the read. This isn't about me, it's about the disease from which can control or consume you. Peace to you, Ryan.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things