X-Mas

Coughing and sputtering... The cold night air hurts my lungs... I inhale my cigarette and Google the freezing point of peroxide... My days have turned to mundane madness... My nights blurr past like a speeding train... I dream of breakfast even though it's 9 at night and I'm awake... I count my nickels and dimes in hope of a biscuit in the morning... Life is just a long hospice stay... Merry Christmas

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Curtis Moorman

Date: 1/16/2020 5:50:00 PM

WOW, Darrell! I see so many possibilities in this poem as to who the person is! He is; homeless; a Veteran - probably from the Vietnam era; he is in a Nursing Home; he is a patient in the SATP Unit at the local VA; he is a candidate for hospice but doesn't have financial ability to pay for treatment. I see them, and deal with them every day for the past 35 years. I am a recovering alcohol with 38 years of sobriety as of 11 Jan 2020. Celebrate Recovery may be of help.