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Hopelessness in Alcoholism
This isn’t going as I planned
It’s like I’m racing through quick sand
Too proud to call out for a hand
I wish that I could understand
Or perhaps if I could just rewind
That first drink I took to be kind
I’d likely not be so inclined
If I knew the madness I’d designed
My skin is crawling day and night
I scoff when up comes morning light
I steal, I hide, I scream and fight
Too many wrongs that I can’t right
How did this take such a hold of me?
I used to have a close family
And dreams and friends that I would see
But the bottle’s now priority
It’s sad just how relieved I feel
The bottle has such great appeal
And it’s not all that I conceal
Yet, I’d choose it over any meal
The smell of the LCBO
The shameful lengths that I will go
It will be my demise, I know
Committing suicide real slow
I don’t deserve a second chance
So don’t give me a second glance
Into addiction I advance
Such Unfortunate circumstance
Jan 30, 2024

Hopelessness in Alcoholism This isn’t going as I

My Childhood
I remember when I was about four or five,
Making up dances, felt so alive.
Sleep overs often, I had friends all around.
At night, unafraid, I’d sleep safe and sound.
Then as a preteen, when puberty hit,
I began to compare, just not sure where I fit.
This girl was faster and that girl was slim…
My outlook on life became fear-filled and grim.
I dressed how they dressed, I adopted new slang,
And dashed for the phone every time that it rang.
I wanted so badly to just not stand out,
And by the time I hit high school I’d started to sprout.
Perhaps if I ate less and got name brand shoes…
I could numb insecurities with Daddy’s booze,
Just a little nip here, perhaps another nip there,
A few sips before class so I could just sit and stare.
Before long I realized I was drinking each day,
I ate lunch alone and soon quit the school play.
I stopped caring so much about what others thought,
And forgot almost everything that I was just taught.
For, my best friend in the world was contained in a bottle,
And I no longer cared about becoming a model.
I no longer cared about much anymore,
And would often wake up on a strange bedroom floor.
No more dances in courtyards, just drinking alone.
My dealer’s the only number I call on the phone.
How did this happen? Where did I go wrong?
Perhaps this was my destiny all along….
January 26, 2024

My Childhood I remember when I was about

Dear Alcohol,
Its time to say goodbye you duplicitous thief. We’ve had some great times man, no doubt about it. You just couldn’t stand to be in the background could you? Always fighting for the spotlight. Mr. Centerstage couldn’t just be a fun addition to the party, you had to make sure it was all eyes on you. Always showing off how strong you are, taking control of every situation, manipulating every emotion to lead right back to you. The Narcissist in a bottle, the Sociopath in a can, the Courageous Facade in a glass, consistent if nothing else. The time has come to part ways. You have overstayed your welcome and have begun to cause discord in my life. “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I put the ways of a child behind me” (1 Corinthians 13:11). As the man of my house I have no room or time for your immaturity, your ever daunting recklessness, or your hidden agendas. The harm you have done to me and mine is insurmountable, the things you have done to me are detestable, but you know what? I forgive you. They say holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. I hold no grudge against you and you were my poison, so I guess you could call that two birds with one stone Big Dog. I’d like to say I’m gonna miss you but that’s the beauty of an ugly break up isn’t it? You never want to see the other person again. So this is it, bye-dios bro. You almost took me with you too but you forgot one thing… I GOT THAT DOG IN ME.

Later Hater.


Dear Alcohol, Its time to say goodbye you

And So They Let Her…

Author: Beth Poulin

She was made by great people, She came from great stock,

At the very beginning, darkness ticked not the clock.


She was born into privilege, She was born into light,
She was rambunctious in daytime, She was restful by night.


She was graced with some talent, She was blessed with some brain,
That precision, that pedestal, was hers to craft and to gain.


She smiled in the spotlight, She put trophies on the shelf,
She developed the image, but She had no sense of self.


She kept checking the boxes, kept seizing the day,
But the darkness was growing, She was not close to ok.


She took Their support, She fed off Their praise,
She made it look normal, and it seemed like a phase.


She had talent with lying, She could put on the show,
They had NO way to see it, They had NO way to know…


…And So They Let Her Rise


Her life become hollow, perfection too much,
The demons, the devils, the defects and such.


She preferred to be wrecked, to be broken, enslaved,

She had no interest in help, no desire to be saved.


She lied and She cheated and injured and stole,

Cared not for Her pieces, Her whole or Her soul.


She burned all her bridges and wore out Her welcome,

She drank and She starved with no care for the outcome.


They paid and They prayed, and They pleaded and cried,

But in heart and in mind They knew lightness had died.


They used all Their resource, They TRIED and They TRIED,

But They lost Her each minute She deceived and denied.


She spit in Their faces, explained away all Their fears,

She rubbished Their love and She laughed at Their tears…


…And So They Let Her Fall


She dipped toes in the water, to meetings She went,

She admitted She needed the messages GOD sent.


She listened to friends and saw fellows succeed,

She writhed and She thrashed to make peace with the need.


She tried to be ready, She opened one ear,

She stumbled, She mumbled, still best friends with fear.


She felt the disorder and dissected the pains,
She wanted back on the tracks, not to chase the wrong trains.


She tried one near-death shot, but that shot didn’t take,

She then knew to rebuild Oh Sweet God She must break.


The bottom She found and the bottom She sought,

Found that peace couldn’t be drank, or be purged or be bought.


She finally said quietly, could barely hold up Her head,

“I think I need HELP”, from Her hospital bed….


…And So They Let Her Grow


Doctors and Therapists and Counselors, Oh My,

She went and She vented with clear sparkle in eye.


She grew brave with the fight, the release of confession,

Knew corrected living was now her divined new profession.

She paid up and hushed up and stood up and found,
She would find Her full aura if She stood Her full ground.


She processed, accepted and wounds She did sew,
Fell into the balance and learned how to say no.


She re-entered the real word, pledged service and shared,

Showed family and friends and HERSELF that She cared.


She captured and raptured the saving power of love,

When it comes from within and around and ABOVE.


She kicked and She treaded, head stayed high above water,

Through the sunlight of the spirit, They again saw Their Daughter…


…And So They Let Her Go


And So They Let Her… Author: Beth Poulin She