A Problem Shared Is A Problem Halved. Poem by Erica J Norman

I sit here, alone,
Thinking of that slurred tone,
That i hear in the early hours,
You stagger in, drenched in showers,
Unknowing that you've lost a week,
and you are well past your peak.

My friend listens and blurs,
Nothing is going to stop these slurs,
Then i see, i relise and somthing dies,
I need to start saying my goodbyes,
As what can i do,
I can never help you.

The pint lies peacefully in your arm,
Soft and rigid, you look so calm,
I stagger backwards,
Resisting to look forwards,
My eyes blur, i catch your solemn eye,
I breath in and say goodbye.