Posts Tagged ‘alcoholism’

What went through your mind,
In those terminal moments?
As control was lost,
As the tyres cursed the road,
Before the impact,

Was it your family?
Your soon-to-be tearful spouse?
The little ones left behind?
All those holidays you’ll miss,
That place at the table nobody speaks of,

Or was it that last drink?
The sweetest of the evening,
The one your friends proposed,
The one nobody stopped you gulping,
Your conscience included,

Was it how you’d be if you made it?
The changes you’d make,
You’d get that new job,
Stop seeing that other woman,
Stop getting bags from that bad man,

As the vehicle careens,
It leaves tyre tracks,
Not only of obsidian rubber,
But also of a life of mistakes,
A car wreck of a life.

Tonight we go to the old pub,
To revel in the end of days,
A pale ale cloud aloft,
It is not as we remember,
Much has changed,

Perspex pubs and gloved gatherings,
Alcoholism has overruled common sense,
And likely common decency,
Impatience has crafted a short memory,
Of a plague put by the wayside,

Merrymakers stay at their tables,
Masked mutterings,
With their bottles and glasses,
Served by fear,
Only death drinks at the bar,

Lets jump pits of fire,
Sharks teeth,
And toxic clouds,
All for a pint,
All for the alcohol,

Last call!
For good!

Dancing and twisting,
Shanties and discussing,
Dizzy politiking,
Beer and cider and rum,
The nights jovialities,
Heavenly as they were,
Have left a hellish calling card,

A blurred perspective,
Bloodshot eyes,
A demon sat upon my cranium,
Parched throat,
Things not where I thought I left them,
A sock gone walkies,
Ill-advised pigeons sent,

Despite this transitory curse,
I do so adore oblivion,
So I pop a pill,
And do it all again.

In my minds eye,
I see myself,
In the coming years,
Down on my luck,
In the brumal months,
Cloaked in a ragged greatcoat,

Among the dreary remains,
Of a night in a haze,
A melancholy stupor,
Initiated by the barman,
But not of his design,
A tap of liquid misery,

Will they find me in the gutter?
Slouched with my whisky friends,
Bottles of woe,
Among the scents of ethanol,
And spoils of spilled amber,
Spirits on the stones,

And when it comes to the grim autopsy,
Will the cause of death be phrenitis?
Or a broken heart?

I’m just leaning here,
Casually propping up the bar,
Thinking to myself,
I don’t have a drinking problem,
It goes down well,
It’s my tonic,

Beers and ciders,
Whiskies and spirits of all shades,
Absinthe ambrosia,
I don’t have a drinking problem,
It makes the world clearer,
As my vision blurs,

I don’t have a drinking problem,
It’s no issue at all,
Stumbling home,
It’s the right way to travel,
Inebriation has become a hobby,
Maybe a way of life,

The pangs begin,
Perhaps,
Just perhaps,
I have a drinking problem.