Prison
A drink becomes a dozen glasses full
To dull the sleepless mind of pain
Escaping is the wine, deceitful
To the heart rejected once again.
A crutch always comes in handy
When down times come a-visiting,
Excuse the emotional disability
A nice relief comes fast with drinking.
But there the chains are set to trap
Each glass encloses unseen prison
Like cobwebs holding a victim up
The drinker is shackled in addiction.
As the brain cells deteriorate
Like rusting metal negating use,
A virtual prison the Self creates
Sentenced itself to Alcohol Abuse.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Added by Poetry Lover
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