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Rated: E · Poetry · Inspirational · #2314387
Yet another recovery poem
Almost Doomed

It started with my father,
but in the end he couldn’t bother
Then came my mother,
whose pain was from another
Then I made my own choices,
from the din of all the voices
So onto others I place no blame,
because it was always my own game

And the games that I played,
in the end only betrayed
Because the tools that I had forged,
and all the rules that I ignored
Kept me in constant conflict,
and then finally a convict
And built in me a hunger,
for the days when I was younger

But those days were long gone,
with no hope of a new dawn
I ran for years and years blindly,
and the world seemed so unkindly
Then those tools that I had used,
and the substances I abused
They all had finally failed me,
I felt that fate had finally nailed me

But I found a new tribe,
and the steps that they prescribe
And while difficult at first,
they also lifted my curse
In freedom today I walk,
and of these steps I often talk
So that others with my addiction,
may also escape affliction

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