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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1449563
A poem about a child dealing with a dad who drinks too much.
He took his first sip thinking he was cool.

Little did he know he'd become a fool.

"Just one won't kill me", he said taking off the top.

"Oh, just one more won't hurt me", he grinned guzzling the last drop.



Soon one became two, and two became three.

Quickly he lost count, but "damn it", he was free.

His teenage years he drank away.

"The best days of my life", no longer could he say.



Then he grew up and accepted marriage.

Not long after that he was pushing a carriage.

One day while drinking he was driving too fast.

Unfortunatly for him, a cop's path he past.

No sooner could he say, "It wasn't my fault".

His lisence was taken and he had been caught.



His marriage didn't work, so he tried with someone new.

She showed him reality and he knew what he had to do.

He kept himself sober and was proud of his new way.

He owed all to his new wife and the meetings of A.A.



This man eyed every drink that would touch a man's lip.

Thinking one day that he could have a sip.



A cold night out on the town,

He grabbed a beer and got it all down.

He thought he could control how many he had.

"One or two, it can't be that bad."

To his family it mattered not much.

He could handle it, he had that touch.

His responsibility lasted many days, even a few years.

But, soon his cravings craved for more beers.



Slowly the bottles in the trash began to rise,

And eventually the packages grew bigger in size.

Now, I'm not exactly complaining, he really made me smile.

He was filled with energy and jokes, but only for a little while.

Often I wonder what went through his head.

He knew he'd wake up in the morning and wish he was dead.



Now, as the packages continued to grow in size,

The yellow grew darker in the white of his eyes.

As you can understand it gave us a scare.

That yellowish color wasn't supposed to be there.

The doctor was called, an appointment was made.

If it could be helped this wouldn't be delayed.



The test results weren't really a blessing.

Unfortunatly, they still have us guessing.



I don't want you to think this man is wrong or bad.

He's the greatest man I know, he is my dad.

I'll always love him no matter what direction he takes.

I'm always his little girl dispite his mistakes.



-Mysty Rayn
© Copyright 2008 Mysty Rayn (mystyrayn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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