The Comedian
The webbing of my self control
Is bursting apart
Breaking down the disguise
Of my life
Unshakeable equanimity
Hardheaded pragmatism
Now a Mobius Strip of uncertainty
An endless comedy of behaviours
Provided for the entertainment
Of the gods
I wait in the wings
For the hero to appear to save me
But at the worst possible moment
I find there is no hero
--Only me
poem by Elizabeth Russell
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The Drunk
I wasn’t always a drunk
Once I was a child - a little girl
Who wanted love
Which she found - in a bottle
At first it had been fun
There were friends and laughter
She felt complete, unbroken for the first time
But it stole something I couldn’t afford to lose
It took my sanity – for awhile
It took over my life – and my child
Withered and died
I can’t get her back
I’ve tried
But I was a drunk
The kind that drinks in the morning
And falls asleep with a glass in her hand
That spills
Red liquid onto the floor
Who laughs too loud
In a crowd
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poem by Elizabeth Russell
Added by Poetry Lover
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