Mothers Ruin

A man sat down in the chair next to mine,
In the waiting room for dropouts and strays,
The scent of him sent me travelling back in time,
To a memory of the not-so-good days,

I looked at the carpet,the mud stained floor,
At the posters for transmitted diseases,
Wondered why I felt I'd been here before,
With the promise of sobriety she teases,

The smell brings notions of organs pickled,
Seeping out of the sweat pores and breath,
Repugnance at my nostrils prickled,
As she careers headfirst to a slow burning death,
 
Your children just weren't enough for you,
A house,a home or your sanity,
Now when the going is getting tough,
We drown in your cross-eyed profanities,

Demons inside you will never be put down, 
Their voices will consume you in the end,
I dread the moment evil shutters come down,
When the bottle's your fair-weather friend.