You cut a desolate figure as you stand,
and you aren’t even aware that your
mere presence is undermining your image.
You are radiating false confidence as you stand,
knowing, and showing, that you are not in control.
If you keep telling yourself you are, though, you will be.
You appear as a crumbling, helpless wreck as you stand,
despite your efforts to portray a calm and unfazed audacity.
Slowly, but surely, you’re desperately throwing more and more of your life away.
You are weak, stupid and selfish as you stand
and defend your actions to your wife.
Not one shred of thought was there for that part of your life.
You are hunched and crying in a gutter as you stand,
that’s where I see your future; where you see your future.
Stop now, and there may still be time to save you.
You are drawn by the lure of that roulette wheel as you stand,
the comforting power of alcohol safely in your hand.
One more go. I’ll win it all back, I know I will.
You cut a desolate figure as you stand.
You’re an addict and addictions kill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All addiction are a result of pain imo Dan. Too much of anything is a killer too. A very thought provoking poem. I hope my addiction doesn't have such an unhappy end. I will get the cure, if it kills me. Smiling high on loving...Tai