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It was late at night,
and he was drunk again.
Just like almost every night
he caught a ride home
from either friends,
family,
or strangers.
He couldn't remember what he did,
or said,
or had sex with.
He had problems to deal with,
his wife and kids,
paying bills and making end's meet.
An old man dropped him off
but far from his house,
on a deserted street.
He didn't know where he was,
but walked alone.
Thinking about his life,
and all the went wrong.
He could've stopped drinking,
and never took Meth,
he thought about the bad things
'till his dying breath.
Half formed thoughts,
swimming in his head.
Wishing all that time,
for his soft, warm bed.
He staggered alone
on into the night,
bottle in hand,
glittering in the moon's light.
He sat on a bench,
and bent his head.
He prayed for forgiveness,
for all the things he did.
Prayed that his family,
who he loved so much,
could get on without him.
Then he laid down,
with much delight.
But sadly he never woke up
after that night.
He died on the bench,
cold and alone,
sad and broken.
He died drunken,
beneath the moon.
 Bani-san · Wed Jun 17, 2009 @ 09:58pm · 4 Comments |
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