The Night of the Genie
As he came staggering down the hall,
Walking slowly hoping not to fall.
The taste of whiskey still on his breath,
Hating himself wishing only for death.
What had turned his life this way?
He used to be happy until that day.
He came home from work and found the note,
It tore him to pieces the words she wrote.
I’m leaving you and I don’t know why,
I’ve got to be free or I feel I will die.
Well that was all the note said,
And he started shaking from those words he read.
What had he done he reasoned in his mind?
All alone in this cold and dark house he felt betrayed and left behind.
To the liquor cabinet he drank his supper that night,
Confused and mad and now wanting to fight.
But there was no one there but himself he was all alone.
He cried out in anger this is the worst feeling I know I’ve ever known.
The old bottle cooed to him I’ll be your friend,
I’ll stick with you till the biter end.
As he picked up that Genie and sloshed it around,
And took another drink from this new friend he had found.
He drank so much he fell asleep on the floor,
And upon awakening he couldn’t remember much about the night before.
He sat at his table with coffee in hand,
Trying to clear his mind looking for answers to help him understand.
Well he thought to himself that what she had done was all wrong,
But if she wasn’t happy with him then he reckoned she just didn’t belong.
That night of drunkenness may not have been right,
But it sure took his mind off his problems that horrible night.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2007
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