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A Child’s P.o.v.

A Child's P.o.v.

Your beers make you unrecognizable,
A face lost in the storm.
But that doesn’t change the fact that you drink them,
While we stand there, being torn.

You see, alcoholism is a war,
A war that rages within.
And once you’re hooked you just can’t quit!
It isn’t like sink or swim.

But having that knowledge doesn’t soften the blow.
Once you start twisting off the caps.
You drink and drink until your reality,
Isn’t visible through the gaps.

The gaps are created by the beer,
‘A poison’ it should be called.
Once you got so drunk that you,
Just stood by while we bawled.

And once you were so wasted that,
You punched the mirror on the wall.
Then you chased us ’round the house,
And punched a hole inside the hall.

Do you remember that, Dad?
Because we do, that’s for sure.
I still don’t get how that nasty smell,
Pulls you in, like a lure.

Where am I going with this?
It’s just a ‘child’s’ point of view.
I’m really sick of all this beer,
But more importantly, it’s effect on you.

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