Drowning My Sorrows In Booze

My wife was a woman who I abused. Now I drown my sorrows in booze. I hit her quite often and it's something I regret. Now I'm drinking a lot of booze to try to forget. She never even once called the cops when I hit her. She always forgave me and she was never bitter. While we were dating, I would romance her. But three years ago she died of skin cancer. The pain is eating me alive because I feel so guilty. I'll spent the remainder of my days living in agony. (Even though this poem is fictional, domestic violence is real.)