by John W

Though I knew not yet the bottom, it rose this time with a vengeance like never before,

Yet my hope laid concealed beneath it, just beyond what was my last trap door.

Arrogantly I needed not, cared not, dared not to admit complete defeat,

But my life, my reality could not have been clearer, John Barleycorn had me beat.

Ignoring the doc’s advice I watched as family, job, home slowly died with me.

My end was in sight, it seemed ordained, que sera, sera, what would be, would be.

My days had become oh so very long, my nights were oh so very dark.

My soul in silence screamed to be free, from its plea came the spark.

Looking back, it was for the wrong reasons that help I sought.

I wanted not what these “losers” had, their suggestions I fought.

But my line, my jumping off point, was there and I had come to it.

I could press on to the bitter end or accept and use the tools in their kit.

Somehow I became willing and I trudged, as they said: one day at a time,

With the promise that a new freedom, a new happiness, with work would be mine.

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