Alcoholics Poems - Poems about Alcoholics

Drop a rock into a still pond, and the ripples echo. A large enough rock, and a pond sized tsunami, waves echoing beyond the edges. Every step I take creates ripples. Sometimes, a tsunami. After all, I'm not screaming in outer space. And...Read the rest...

"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the ...Read the rest...

Chicago's like a box of alcoholics you always know what your gonna git gang bangers and amateur rappers pick pockets and sidewalk crappers trolls guzzling homebrew under a bridge...Read the rest...

worst types of people in the world my mother had opinions about everything under the sun dividing the world into those that bored her amused her or charmed her dividing the world in those that knew and those that did...Read the rest...

I still remember my childhood being poured out of me slowly I was 7 or 8 when I experienced my grandfather suffer. He choked to death on his vomit (died the next day in ICU) My father never...Read the rest...

Alcoholics and Druggies die every day That's the chant. Their vice is a monster they endure at first, then regret, Then fully embrace until life just slips away. Their lives were full of shoulda, coulda, and woulda's They would get...Read the rest...

iconoclastic poets with no evidence of skill or polish in the existing system of boredom violence of love unmasked and naked splashed on the rites of the system threatening and powerless risking anarchy for freedom disfigured finds solace in the clutches of fermented purple grapes we call them...Read the rest...

Middleclass alcoholics After a heart attack my life as seaman was over, so I went back to school and trained to become a shrink helping people with addiction problems and for this I got a diploma....Read the rest...

Picturesque beauty - the sunrise, sunset The rays - that hue - those shades of bronze Beauteous - that yellowish tint or the rainbow Way up high - after the rain! imagine that Imagery of waterfalls - the beaches...Read the rest...

To pick up the bottle drown in my sorrow, drink it,---all gone as a drunkard I wait for tomorrow wake up with the sun on my face don't even remember the day is it SUNDAY? OH NO! it's MONDAY time to find my pride better...Read the rest...

A bitter and twisted tale to follow, everyday the same as tommorw, same old madness that will follow, empty dreams and a heart that's hollow. Ill begin each day the usual way, look in the mirror and see decay, a hopeless...Read the rest...