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Poem: Falling apart and alone

There was the time he watched over the kids, like a careful daddy was he, but then while the toddlers were playing free, he found a bottle of booze he once hid away
liquor bottles
Falling apart and alone
 
I Knew someone who struggled
to keep himself clean and free from the itch.
But no matter how he worked towards sobriety
this man could not achieve his freedom dream.
 
Describing how this interior struggle continued
day in and day out into the night.
While he worked, played and shopped through the day
this itch, craving and pain would not subside.
 
There was the time he watched over the kids,
like a careful daddy was he,
but then while the toddlers were playing free,
he found a bottle of booze he once hid away. 
 
All his attention was on the bottle,
and for a time he forgot the little ones in his care.
His attention was centered upon that booze
like a sniper's target it became the world to him.
 
A sharp cry from a child pivoted his attention,
to the one who demanded all he had to give that day
and this man held his child dearly
and poured that dreaded booze into the sink.
 
Day by day, minute by minute he struggles,
the itch he feels will not go away.
Too much coffee, a drink perhaps will bring him to a cliff of despair,
as this man searches for a way to freedom's glory.
 
Acknowledging that he cannot do it alone,
that he needs a helping loving hand,
Opening himself to another's assistance realized,
the victim becomes much more than an addict.
 
No longer alone, but part of a fellowship was he,
from AA, family or friend came a helping hand.
Alone he was a weak substitute to the mighty,
but together with another he become a powerful "We".
 
Steven Kaszab
Bradford, Ontario