The Tragedy of Cold Nights and Drunken Lives

Amanda Holstien

My brother walked down a darkened street,
head hung low and shuffled feet.
He happened upon an alleyway,
met a man who said he was the way.
So my brother emptied his pockets, explaining it’s all he had,
the man patted his shoulder and graciously laughed.

So my brother let him be,
turn his back and headed to the street.

In a stagger, he tripped on a stone,
he fell flat on his face and let out a moan.
A whisper of a prayer came out in his breath;
“Years of drinking will lead to death.”
A shout of a curse echoed down the street
but enough strength came, and he rose to his feet.

Dizzy and dazed, he could barely see,
so my drunken brother had himself a seat.
It was just then midnight, so the bell told.
Rain drizzled down; the wind blew him cold.

On the bench at 12:05,
there he promised he’d change his stride.
He promised to God he’d change his life,
if only the Lord would sustain him through the night.
And though the Lord is loving and kind,
there on that bench, my drunken brother died.

Life's Morphed Emotions by Jody Lawrence


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
previous.                                                                                                next.
 
 
 
Archives: Spring 2010.

Advertisements

One Response to The Tragedy of Cold Nights and Drunken Lives

  1. Felicia Dibrell says:

    All I can say is WOW! This poem is very rich in emotion and everyone should read it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s