Ode To The Alcoholic Poem by Lisa Pierson Pierson

Sipping his drink
As he sits on the bed
Rubbing his eyes
And scratching his head

His legs are so shaky
He can't even stand up
But you better believe
He's still holding that cup

Memories of last night
Are not very clear
No he hasn't a clue
How he even got here

There are scrapes on his arm
And cuts on his head
If the drinking continues
He'll soon wind up dead

He says he will quit
Yeah, we've heard this before
When he should be at work
He's out cold on the floor

This is a disease
He can't do it alone
How do you get through
To a man that is stoned

He once was a good man
It's a terrible shame
Only he and his
Precious Jack Daniels to blame
L. Pierson