The Poet In His Casket

The Poet in His Casket Well, look at you lying there! In your brown suit and gold tie. How I want to hug you now! You can't be dead, you're only forty years old! We lived together till you took a new wife! Her name was alcohol and that ended our happy days and our life. She was the apple of your eye, she took all the money and happiness we had! She destroyed your morals and see, your once great body,too. And as for your writing skills? Out the window they flew. The world is filled with once innocent, unaware people like you, Thinking what's wrong with a drink or two.  What's wrong is the simpletonian thinking Is the ignoramus belief  " There's nothing wrong with a drink!" I tried to control you, how sad in retrospect. I know far better now!  You never heard of the twelve steps neither did I! You are buried in Marin County now. I try to tell this brief story here. If any poet here or has a family member with a problem... It can end. Not in a grave, no. I realize he had a disease, full tilt. Heavy drinkers can quit easily! Alcoholics cannot, they have a disease and need help. Three weeks in rehab for true alcoholics simply won't cut it. This is a mental and physical disease, quite a whopper! We feel soory for the diabetic or cancer patient, don't we? But just Tsk,Tsk, when we see a man or woman walking drunkardly. It maybe someone just high for one night. But for many it's more than than that. When alcohol is the love of your life. Know that No person sets out with the goal to be an alcoholic. If you love them, keep loving them! Get to an Alanon meeting if family Or friend. You must understand the disease if you truly love them. Best wishes, good luck and indeed, that poet in the casket was my husband, indeed. The last time I saw him, he recited a poem dedicated to me. And now that poet....is history. Forever lost to me, living in eternity. Panagiota Romois 5/22/2019 7:15 pm