We, The Self-Condemned
Published June 19, 2005
I've not written anything here or on my own tiny blog for over a month now, so this is long overdue.
I'm sorry that it's another poem. You don't have to read it if you don't want to.
Alcohol is a mask
That we decide to wear
An assassin's cloak we use
To try and hide from all our fears;
Lock them deep within our heart
And drench them all with beers
Yet, each time we heft the burden
It gets a little heavier to bear
And desiccates just a bit more
That place between our ears
So if you reach a point in life
When you start believing you're all alone
And think the world is covered head-to-toe
With some all-consuming strife
Just stop before you reach a most bitter end
Then throw away your alcohol
With its ever-thirsty, ice-cold knife
The one whose aim is always straight and true
Even as it pierces right through your heart
While grasping for your soul
And know that it's time to face the fears around you
Only then will you again feel whole
- We, The Self-Condemned
- Published: June 19, 2005
- Type: Opinion
- Section: Culture
- Writer: Jon Downs
- Jon Downs's BC Writer page
- Jon Downs's personal site
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Comments on this articleComments
Don't take it to heart...take in your hand:)
Pour me a drink - one for the road
thanks for the kind words...it certainly is not meant as a judgement of others. I'm well aware that plenty of people can drink without it becoming an issue. Maybe in time, i'll be one of them again
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Poetry is quite wonderful. more people shoudl try it because it is an attempt to get to the essence of your innermost.
It is valuable. Thank you