The Gift...

Don’t give me that look of distain,  
of arrogance, of pity, I don’t need it.
I didn’t ask for any of this, I was,
literally pushed into it. Was a few  
minutes of pleasure on Christmas
worth a lifetime of shame and ignominy  
 
I was forced into school which I hated
I was dragged into church where I was bored
and told the sky with the angels was our goal.
I loved beer under the bleachers after school.  
Cigarettes were so cool and made me feel  
so good. Then, there were women, many and often.  
Love, naw, that’s just a word used to justify desire.
 
My need for alcohol was only exceeded by my
love of pills. Uppers, downers, a little grass in  
between were my heaven. Until that magic needle  
that took me out of all this misery to a place without  
rules or expectations. A place where I was floating  
and free of the stares and shame.
 
So I got caught with my stash. So what, big deal.  
Just one more “put down” in the long line of  
gifts from that Christmas fling. Now, I get to sit in  
here for decades, four walls, three squares  
and two hours in the yard each day. Lotsa time to
contemplate that muse who charts everyone’s  
course to either love and family or here,  
to this stone tomb, buried alive. Well, it’s  
August 12th, Happy Birthday to me. No party here.
As for this gift well, take this “gift” and, well you know!