Wasted Life
I laughed at life,
you barely grinned…
as you drank
the last of your gin.
A rainbow arched …
the sunlit sky,
how magnificent
exclaimed I
They are all the same…
came your reply
as you sipped on
the last glass of rye
Could your life not in splendor flow—
even roses have thorns
and there's beauty in the sea
amidst a raging storm
Through this bottle, I see clear…
a rotten world, lack of cheer
where children die
I relented and had no reply
My life went on
from day to day
and in your heart
I could see the pain
My heart aches
as I watch you,
trade your life…dear
for rye, gin and beer
Love is to share
sorrow, joy, or pain
why do you sit in solitude—?
but the answer never came.
A life snubbed out
without living…
I sorrow for you,
nay, I pity.
You were alive
but did not live…
had love
but did not give
Who will recall
a drunken man
who did not express
the gift in his hand—
The grave will morn…
the broken heart of a wife
but laugh and scorn
at a wasted life.
I wrote this poem in 1994 after my father died in a fire. Among the rubble, I found some of his poems and was amazed at the talent he had. It appears that he was a gifted poet, but alcohol kept him from fulfilling any dreams of success. I remember feeling angry and hurt that he was not in my life to share this with me. Since then, I have come to terms with everything and to an understanding...



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