Shadow of the Butterfly Posted May 12, 2003 Report Posted May 12, 2003 Green glass Cold, wet, tangy Dark brewed liquid Her comfort, companion The quiet friend that always listened Never judged nor condemned It washed away her fears and regrets Until all that was left was a numb drunk She wasn't happy, couldn't have been She exchanged her soul for that liquid It began to slowly eat away at her insides Much like the worms and bugs are now Six feet under She can't reach the bottle anylonger
Chanz Posted May 12, 2003 Report Posted May 12, 2003 OMG, that's so sad. My mum died partly because of her alcohol problem. Very courageous effort, and well done!
Parmenion Posted May 12, 2003 Report Posted May 12, 2003 Took cahoneys to tackle that one. Very brave.
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