Alcoholism
Show me the resounding proof,
That life is real,
That it is truly 151 proof,
Liquor spins my life's wheel.
Now I sit; lips wrapped 'round a bottle,
Facing a truth too hard to swallow,
That I'm no longer a baby to coddle,
That it is pathetic to wallow.
Did I choose to rise?
Did I become a man?
Should I tell you lies,
So you may aid me; a broken man?
Instead I loaded a double shot in this gun,
Sat with the ring of a barrel in my mouth,
Tipping back to pull the trigger; the room spun.
And the liquor went south.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
