|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Drink the last drop
Contributed by
stargazer
on
Wednesday, 16th July 2003 @ 06:05:00 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
The smell it always lingered,
even if they were not drinking.
He smelled it on his Father
the minute he walked through the front doors.
The anger never went away,
if anything with each new beer it grew worse.
The boy feared for his and his mother's life,
but there was not a thing he could do.
The alcohol ruled their lives.
It was one thing in their lives, that could not be beat.
His mother never fought back,
but gave into him
and she too became lost in the world of alcholism.
She tried to quit...
but she didn't want too.
She wanted to please her husband,
and every night became the same routine.
The boy fought back one night,
and his father's fist met his face.
He wiped the crimsom blood from his nose,
and spat on his Father's shoes...
calling out he hated him, as his Father sped out of the driveway
and out of sight.
That night they got a call.
His Father had been killed...
time of death 11:33.
When asked to stand up at his father's funeral,
he bowed his head and glanced at his hands.
The entire church watched and waited,
for the young boy to begin to speak.
"Alcoholism did not kill my father,
my Father killed himself.
He drank away his life, and he is too blame."
Watching as tears splashed onto his mother's cheeks,
he exited the church,
everyone watching him as he did.
He never went to the burial,
he was far too ashamed.
And it kills him now to know that the last thing he ever said was,
"I hate you."
Every night, at 11:33 his tears come not in sorrow,
but in fear that one day...
that "IT" will destroy his life.
R.I.P Grandfather
Copyright ©
stargazer
... [
2003-07-16 06:05:00] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Drink the last drop
(User Rating: 1 ) by Ilhar on
Wednesday, 16th July 2003 @ 06:26:25 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
My father was an alcoholic, I also lost a good friend who died in a traffic accident, due to drinking. You are right I fear for those around me.
Shari |
|
|
Re: Drink the last drop
(User Rating: 1 ) by Kimmie_mac on
Wednesday, 16th July 2003 @ 09:30:11 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
My grandfather was an alcoholic and got killed in a car accident and I felt guilty because I wanted him to be dead because he molested me when I was six and told me if I ever told a soul he would kill me. alcoholism destroys many a lives. Your mother shouldn't have felt guilty. Lot of love, Kimmie_mac |
|
|
Re: Drink the last drop
(User Rating: 1 ) by Crow on
Thursday, 17th July 2003 @ 10:15:58 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
just a terrific write, emotional, and realistic
i enjoyed the read. Crow |
|
|
Re: Drink the last drop
(User Rating: 1 ) by lovingcritters on
Thursday, 17th July 2003 @ 11:53:57 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
RiP Grandfather....you need not fear, RiPG, anyone that is aware of their enemy is sure to over come it! So stay aware....and don't blame yourself for harsh words either. Of course you hated him, there is nothing wrong in that. We all have titles, RiPG, and just because he was your father, doesn't make him your father! If he was a REAL father to you, he would have stopped drinking and been a good father to you. He loved the Alchohol more than you.....so hate him...you should hate what is bad, and love what is good!
Your poem was wonderful! I'm so glad you are so truthful with yourself and others!
lovingcritters
csz1914@msn.com |
|
|
Re: Drink the last drop
(User Rating: 1 ) by stargazer on
Friday, 18th July 2003 @ 12:53:24 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Thank-you very much for your comment. I wrote this for my mom becasue for her alcoholism has been very real. I'm lucky that my father is indeed a father and does NOT have a drinking problem. However, for my mom she lived in a home where beer was the ruler no matter what. With time she learned that everything heals... and so did the pain of her father's death.
-Amy |
|
|
|