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Alone he sat on the cold soft sand
Gazing at the ocean
Reflecting on his life 
Overcome with emotion

His dad left when he was young
Never to return
His  mother checked out slowly
It was the bottle she did yearn

There were no meals on the table
No heating or warm clothes in a drawer
Mums asleep on the couch again
Empty bottles on the floor 

His mother gradually wasted away
Her eyes became yellow and blank
She no longer knew her son
From all the poison she drank

She died a horrible death
At fourteen he was all alone
No-one to turn to
Nowhere to call home

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Years passed by ….now a man
Sitting on the beach
Tears rolled down his face
As for his bottle he did reach

His life had been a struggle
As long as he could recall
Never having being nurtured 
Or ever knowing love at all

He tried to do it right
Be a good and decent man
The demons inside his head
Silenced only by the bottle or can

He led a solitude life
Had nothing to call his own
Felt helpless and lost
Ostracised and alone

As he sat on the beach
Looking up at the stars
He was angry and sobbed heavily
Triggered by  demons and scars

The hurt he suffered was intolerable 
He placed his hand over his heart
Fell backwards in the sand
Only then did hand and bottle part!

~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He looks at her sweet young face
He’s filled with loving pride
As she listens to the story
Snuggling closer into his side

He watches his wife potter in the kitchen
Glowing as again with child
She glances over at him 
Giving a loving smile

He feels complete fulfilment 
He now knows what it’s like to be loved
To have family and be whole
Present …..No longer drugged!

It’s been nearly eight years since he touched the bottle
Turned his life around
Finally breaking that cycle
So future generations
Can walk on sober ground!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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