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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
A Man Chained by Vices
He is lost on a long road with no turns.
He doesn't move forward to find,
freedom from his addiction.
He doesn't look back to know
why he is shackled to his vices.
Instead, he sits still wondering when he will be struck by ecstasy again.
Chained to the sidewalk, he waits near the cold road,
helpless like a newborn child that can walk.
He looks up to an unforgiving winter.
Praying salvation wash over him.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
I once heard a warning from a sailor:
"Don't look at the ocean at night—the darkness offers an escape."
I wonder if it is the same for a soldier staring down a gun barrel.
As they run through dark trenches, fleeing death,does that cold metal cylinder promise a release?
An end to fear.The death of anger.
Or a quiet peace brought to a desolate land.
Many wonder, staring straight into that deep ocean of unforgiving quiet.
But peace demands a price in an empty country.
It means
a mother you will never see,
a wife you will never love,
a child you will never guide—
only eyes wandering a horizon that never ends.
But the sailor never taught me what remains unseen:
the sea always stares back.
It cannot feel your agonizing rage.
It does not share your lonely sadness.
It has no thought of family or friends.
Instead, it only waits for you to jump, and find your peace.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
I am a man that cannot see,
I have to trust in what I feel,
Because I feel you next to me.
I am a man that cannot see,
I have to trust those who guide me,
So I trust you won't leave me lost at sea.
I am a man that cannot see,
I value your voice more than your words to me,
So I trust you when I hear say you love me.
I am a man that cannot see,
I am not blind, I lived in a fantasy.
Now you have left me for him-
That is all I see.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
An angel trapped in Heaven.
Pleading to see earth once more.
She cries for possessions left behind.
She weeps for memories she will forget.
She is safe in paradise but yearns to be back home.
Crying rain as she sees her world move on.
Why am I in heaven?I just miss home.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
The tree in my backyard has been watching me since I was three.
As time passed, its gaze has never set me free.
In the light, it gives a shadow;
in the dark, it hides the light.
This tree makes my life just not right.
Like the other night, it knocked on my window, gave me a fright.
This damn tree is trying to take my life;
I know it looks at me like a killer with a knife.
So with an axe, I hacked it to the ground,
And joyfully, wildly, I danced around.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
Day fades into darkness, I cannot sleep.
Like a labourer working the nightshift,
I am stuck in bed, everything still,
wondering what the next day will bring for me.
My last few hours are meant for peace,
yet my mind is loud with thoughts of,
What will they think of me?:
Will they say I am strong
because I won a fight in grade three?
Will they say I am smart
because I built a house at twenty-three?
Maybe they will say I'm weak
because I cried when she left me.
Maybe they will say I'm useless
because in the world,I never changed a thing.
They will say many things when death and I meet,
But on my deathbed,
All I want is to dream
As the life I had was enough for me
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
Father, I have left school as the smartest.
Are you proud of me?
I have conquered the known world.
Father, are you proud of me?
I have created kingdoms and religions where all bow to your surname.
I ask, Father, are you proud of me?
Mother says she is proud of the person I have become.
Yet I look to the stars: Father, are you proud of me?
I have sacrificed so many days and nights, now they are just memories I forget.
Father, are you proud of me?
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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The Alcoholic Poet Poem
The more days I spend talking to you
The more,my love for you fades.
My heart beats quieter seeing
Your eyes once stars, dim.
Your voice a sweet tone
that carried honey.
Now bitter.
I still love you,
but I don't want you.
Your hapless actions-
Fill me with guilt.
I don't know what to do,
you ask once more
"Is this love true?"
The question hurts
as I can't even look at you.
Copyright © The Alcoholic Poet | Year Posted 2026
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