Misery Begins At Forty

I was a man, a cold blooded drunk, as they come. I lived my whole life in a little house on my dad’s farm. A broke hustler with a defunct bank account, My career's future was always in doubt. I married late, at the start of my forties. It was not for love, I just wanted society to notice. I did it to save myself from the embarrassment, So she was not exactly for me heaven sent. If I thought I was unhappy before, I was miserable now. I my search for stability I had eloped with a cow. I had to drink more, to feel like a man again. Had to play deaf and mute, not to go insane. As the years passed, the cow bore me a calf By now I was weak and my income had reduced to half The bottle was killing me, but it was Still my only friend. To hold my hand and kiss me, everyday till the end. The bottle was all i had, to wash away my sorrow I had to have it, whether i should beg, steal or borrow The meaning of life had now escaped my grasp. All I did was sit, drink and watch time elapse. Misery matured to sickness and still the years went by. I shed no tears but within me there was a silent cry. That of an old man whose whole life had been a lie Pleasure is only found in the sweet wine a youngster sips. For death hangs around the bed, every time an old man sleeps. No amount of slumber nor sweet dreams can sooth, When the heavy hand of time strikes away youth. The dagger of illness and age was soon on my throat I who called my wife "cow" was almost a slaughtered goat. The reflection of my old face was unbearable on the mirror. I looked haggard and horrible, i looked like a killer. The cow and the calf left me to seek better pasture. I was now all alone, expect for the bottle and my pastor He visited often to preach me the holy word. He warned me of hell, i assured him, that i have already had He gave up, went his way as death came mine. No regret, no redemption and no cloud nine There was no glitter, there was no glory I was bitter, and that was the end of my story.