Untitled 11

He was everyone’s best friend

yet a horrid husband and father.

Demons cried, piercing his pain

until alcohol was the only game.

Destroyed two lives;

thought it was a game,

died before retribution could be handed down.

He cared for others but not his own flesh and blood

demanding that we love.

Damned to the Underworld,

demons gobble his pain.

I can hear your cries, your pleads for help

but all I can feel is my pain.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

July 31/17

 

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Author: Jay-lyn Doerksen

I am a single hard working mom in her 40's. I have always written poetry and I love words. I live with depression and its ups downs. This is a space where I can create and write all that I need to.

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