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 early 40's. I have always written poetry and I love words. A self confessed obsessive book worm I live for my son and my down time to read. I have a vast array of friends and cohorts who I will be writing about. I hope I can make people laugh or cry; be thoughtful and understanding. And I need to write so this will be my voice.

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