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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 08:05:28 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 20506
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Drink the last drop
[time] => 2003-07-16 06:05:00
[hometext] => This poem has a lot of sentimental meaning to me. My Grandfather died in a car accident, while under the influence, when my mom was just 15. And just like in this poem.... the last thing she ever said was, "I hate you." If there is one thing I fear in life... alcoholism would be it. [bodytext] => The smell it always lingered, even if they were not drinking. He smelled it on his Father the minute he walked through the front doors. The anger never went away, if anything with each new beer it grew worse. The boy feared for his and his mother's life, but there was not a thing he could do. The alcohol ruled their lives. It was one thing in their lives, that could not be beat. His mother never fought back, but gave into him and she too became lost in the world of alcholism. She tried to quit... but she didn't want too. She wanted to please her husband, and every night became the same routine. The boy fought back one night, and his father's fist met his face. He wiped the crimsom blood from his nose, and spat on his Father's shoes... calling out he hated him, as his Father sped out of the driveway and out of sight. That night they got a call. His Father had been killed... time of death 11:33. When asked to stand up at his father's funeral, he bowed his head and glanced at his hands. The entire church watched and waited, for the young boy to begin to speak. "Alcoholism did not kill my father, my Father killed himself. He drank away his life, and he is too blame." Watching as tears splashed onto his mother's cheeks, he exited the church, everyone watching him as he did. He never went to the burial, he was far too ashamed. And it kills him now to know that the last thing he ever said was, "I hate you." Every night, at 11:33 his tears come not in sorrow, but in fear that one day... that "IT" will destroy his life. R.I.P Grandfather [comments] => 5 [counter] => 220 [topic] => 21 [informant] => stargazer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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