There is More to Drinking Than Hangovers

Reads: 123  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this poem from the viewpoint of a child who lost her/his parents to an accident involving a drunk.

I would say 'enjoy', but. . .

Submitted: June 23, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 23, 2008

A A A

A A A


Miserable, helpless, shocked, hating
Nothing. I feel nothing.
So much emotion, I’m numb.
Feeling nothing.
 
I got the news that they did not survive
Red with hate; hate-red.
Feeling hatred for alcohol, for guns,
For worthless doctors.
Feeling nothing,
I ran barefoot into the cold.
How is an orphan supposed to survive?
 
The frozen lake beckoned to me
An icy bridge away from this empty world.
I grabbed what I loved most after my parents.
Shoved my feet into them
No time to tie the laces.
And I stumbled through the snow in my ice skates.
 
Reached the lake, stepped onto the ice.
For a moment, sensation rushed back to me
Memories of audiences
Cameras
Silver blades flashing
And two smiling faces, my parents cheering.
 


 
All feeling gone.
I feel nothing.
 


 
I hopped
And hopped and jumped and stomped
Finally, a crack.
 
 
Hop, jump, stomp.
Crack, crack, crack.
 
Into the water
Surprise, it’s not cold.
I feel nothing.
 
I’m already half way across the bridge
From the world of emotions to the next
To join my parents.
 
Just wishing I could bring him with me.
The drunk man who shot them
He deserves this bridge more than I do.
So bitter, so unfeeling, I reach the end.


© Copyright 2017 makeawish9292. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply