Wednesday, 21 October 2009

The Binge Drinker

Slumped invisible in the gutter
Mingling unknown with the litter
Pants awash with stale urine
Last nights Donna on the chest
Blinking at the slate grey sky
Seeing dogs’ mess eye to eye

Stumbling home to go to bed
Blood oozing from a damaged head
Liver hurting, bowels unleashed
The last of dignity breached
Brain throbbing, face flaccid
Throat sore from stomach acid

Creeping up the stairs to sanctuary
Mouth feeling like a columbary
Fall into the welcoming duvet
No strength to wash, no sense to care
Fall asleep with blood soaked hair
Curled up in the filthy lair

Awake at noon and have a shower
Clean clothes on, and feel empowered
To go again and have some fun
To drink and drink, the nights begun
Fifteen vodkas ten more unknown
This time though the livers blown

To A and E, carried in
Concern about the yellow skin
Diagnosis given with no feeling
Not much hope of proper healing
Life was fine, life was free
But this young girl is twenty three

Mother’s crying, dad’s in shock
Daughter’s face the hue of chalk
Prognosis given, no hope there
All say that it is so unfair
Blame the clubs, blame the pubs
No sympathy from those in scrubs

Self inflicted they all say
Abstinence would keep at bay
The waste of life, it’s clear to see
That this young girl would have a life
With no pain and parent’s grief
Her life would not be so brief

Too late for her, too late for them
No point in trying to condemn
Empty place at the table
No more music no more fun
A life extinguished before begun
The lifestyle of youth today

But having fun will still hold sway


© Angus Dei

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