Like a Siren calling me <br />Relentlessly to death, <br />My latent love of alcohol <br />haunts my every breath. <br /> <br />It started out quite innocent- <br />A scotch sipped here and there- <br />Progressing by degrees into <br />a sordid love affair. <br /> <br />A beer or three drunk at the game <br />And I was good company. <br />But, starting in the parking lot <br />I got disorderly. <br /> <br />Once a few drinks were consumed <br />Cold winter evenings lost their gloom- <br />Until my wife divorced me- <br />Now I live in rented rooms. <br /> <br />I managed, barely, while at work <br />I’ve got a union card. <br />I was often absent Mondays <br />which my boss thought very odd. <br /> <br />I had to find myself some help <br />To rise from my despair- <br />Wednesday nights in my church basement <br />There’s an A.A. meeting there. <br /> <br />I have a mentor guiding me <br />He’s been to Hell and back. <br />He always takes my phone calls <br />when Johnnie Walker wants me back.. <br /> <br />And so I will not drink today <br />Ten weeks now I’ve been sober. <br />I spilled the drink into the sink- <br />I think… I hope it’s over. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />While this is a work of fiction, it is a true story for many friends of Bill W.<br /><br />John F. McCullagh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-tonight-5/
