God Bless - Poem by Mad Gone
Not a sound,
Not a pin dropp on the ground.
Hills of green,
No one to be seen.
My one true friend now at my side.
With those soft and gentle eyes
But never sadly since.
Inside, a never ending scream.
The tears now flow a stream,
When will this ever end,
Will time ever truly mend?
Let the children play,
And remember thoughts of yesterday.
For all too soon they will know,
Why you very often felt so low.
While you lift your glass,
Your pain will surely pass.
But where do I go?
I have no ship to stow.
On your return, your sorry plain to see.
As you're here now to prepare the tea.
The bottles now discarded.
Wishing you had but never started.
The house is bare.
Your room? Not there.
The glass the smell I knew that well,
A scene from Dante's hell.
I throw my bag down in the hall
And wondered who to call.
The pub search first,
Before I think the worst.
Some hours have past,
Oh God, Oh blast!
I sit alone upon the stairs
With no-one left who cares.
The doorbell rings,
"Mother please stop singing hymns".
The little church up on the hill,
Has well and truly had their fill.
Grown men now stare,
As if not there.
I drag her, with all my might,
My God! It was some sight.
Would you like a hand my dear?
Now that you are so bloody near!
Piss off! I said with such finesse,
One might have thought I wore a dress.
I put to bed my elder,
Wondering, could I sell her?
The glass picked up,
In fear she'd want a sup.
The infested tan brown liquid,
Gurgling down the drain it slid.
The fall out due tomorrow,
As she would duly express her sorrow.
The look upon those righteous people,
As they prayed below their steeple.
I still see clear within my mind,
Salvation I hope they will find.
The shame is shared,
But would I have cared.
Labelled for the drunk,
God bless, that poor little punk!
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