deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Shelf

I remember the times from my youth, a time when I had very few role models. † †
† †
I grew belligerent, ignorant and uncouth; †  
As I was shown the value of liquor bottles. †  
† †
Firsthand experience, I sadly held this coal. †  
Burned to the quick as it scorched my very soul. †  
† †
This is no excuse for my actions, for every person isnít the same. †  
† †
Some can handle these liquids, but to think I could, I was insane. †  
† †
I seen what it did to my father, I seen what it did to my mother. † †
† †
I seen what it did to my family, but somehow thought I was different from the others. † †
† †
What I sought in this bottle, I now know was a sense of selfÖ †  
† †
But instead I fell for the coup, and took the bottleís place upon the shelf.
Written by Gibbet13 (Waylon Gibbett)
Published
Author's Note
Due to positive feedback on my other work, The Dove, Iíve decided to post another. This story in poem format also serves as a warning, as excessive reliance upon alcohol will stagnate your personal growth. Keep the bottle in itís place, respect it, never underestimate it, or else you could take itís spot upon The Shelf.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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