Living inside a bottle

Living inside a bottle

 

– Alcoholism (I only drink on 2 days i.e when it rains and when it does not)

 

I’m lying on stretcher in a white ambulance van

The needles is my veins are doing my heart scan

A nurse besides me says her name is ‘Roxanne’

She is overly nervous and asks on the phone ‘Doctor, tell fast what’s the plan?’

Her flickering eyeballs suggests, I have less time left than a child’s attention span

If I die in mid way, no one would miss me anymore other than

My bottles of alcohol and my beer can

And my dead remains, will end up in thrash can

But when I had a bottle in my hand, I always felt like a man.

 

I remember my old days, when I was really young, only twenty-one

My friends forced me to try at a party once for fun

I thought to go with flow; after all it’s not a game of gun

The very first sip I drank, I knew, we both had found each one

Nothing stopped that night and bottles emptied out one after one

I swear at 4am I saw my first midnight sun

I was the last man standing and everyone I had outrun

Girl at bar counter gave me a smile and her interest she began

Anyone could tell with a bottle in my hand, I felt like a man

 

My college years can be easily summed up, by those bunked classes and videogame called ‘N-able’

Those bunch of friends and that shining bottle of ‘black label’

Those frequent hangovers, blackouts and vomits on conference table

That democratic way of deciding the next meet, to drink the best alcohol label

That regular Dad’s nagging ‘When will you join me on dinner table’

 

Could he not be proud? When everyone stopped drinking, as his or her capacity disable

His son was the only one, who could still stand strong and walk back home stable

Why was he just after  ‘Where is your life heading and what’s your plan?’

Could he not already see, with a bottle in my hand, his son felt like a man?

 

I used to drink before I go to work, cos it made me so much efficient

More I had, the more it felt I had very less of it and insufficient

I use to drink with anyone and everyone, to show them they were so deficient

I could easily go on forever, while they use to say ‘No more!  We are very self sufficient’

They use to all say to me  ‘Stop it now and do not do this alcohol abuse’

That bunch of fools! Could not see that for me, it felt like going on holiday cruise

 

My doctor once called me, to say ‘Come here, because for you I got one news’

He said ‘Your liver is getting rusted, because of this over consumed booze’

Idiot doctor! could not understand, it was nothing but a grape juice

I’m sure everyone was jealous of me, cos of my collection of bottles in my sedan

They could win ‘no argument’ over me, cos with bottle in my hand I felt like a man

 

I slowly started realizing when I drank, I could not decide my limits anymore

All my friends were leaving me, like seagull from the shores

I recall the day when I decided instead of buying milk for my child, I would only be able to afford my ‘Rum’ (Alcohol)

That was first time I felt I’m completely dependent on it and felt so much numb

 

My wife left me one day saying ‘as a man you are so f*ckin weak ‘

‘Even a small bird is stronger, which before her own food, feeds her baby from her beak’

I had no courage to hold her hand and tell her to not leave me and stop

All I did that entire night was to drink alone and non-stop

After this whenever I had to enhance my mood

I had a compulsion to finish it, when I saw any alcohol bottle nude

 

This have ended me in stretcher in white ambulance van

The needles now is my veins are doing my heart scan

I have wasted my life, just to remain ‘high’ (Intoxicated) for only few hours

Because of this I have ruined my career, my talent, my wife and my child called ‘flower’

My mother use to tell my father ‘You just watch my son grow old and look’

‘He will one day become a great author and write a book’

I’m so very sorry mother, I feel guilty to the core, and to throw your dream in thrash can

Nothing more I can do now cos I have less time left, than a child’s attention span

 

Because with a bottle in my hand, I’m A DEAD MAN

 

 

P.S: Please be extremely nice to alcoholics, they don’t have much time to live on this earth. It starts with little use, then this use becomes a misuse and then it becomes an abuse and finally they are dependent on the bottle. Life is more beautiful outside than INSIDE OF A BOTTLE.

 

@Copyright: Authored by amateur me –Anup D.

Street Kid

Street Kid

 

@ If you have a heart- Hopefully it will make u realize

 

 

Scratched face and rapped in mud

At the age of eleven, I look more like sixty-year-old dud

My clothes are torn and visible stains of soaked blood

My parents died in a heavy flood

 

 

My papa did what he could for us to somehow eat

My Ma sold books on traffic singles in shivering heat

I don’t remember I ever slept with my stomach fill

Papa use to say may be it’s just the God’s will

 

 

There is no one now I can call my own

I am insignificant and completely unknown

My body is slender, pale and thin

I got dimples when I use to grin

 

 

I see people picking their kids in cars

While I sleep under the sky and stars

I don’t remember how many days it has been

Since I washed my hair, face and chin

No one talks to me, may be it’s a sin

My favorite food is near thrash bin (Dustbin)

 

 

My life now is as black as a coal grid

With no future and hope just forbid

If I remember correctly may be my name was ‘sid’

But now everyone abuses me and calls me a street kid

I sometimes wake up in night not finding my Ma besides me in fear

Take a closer look at my face and see the track of my tear

 

 

I’m same child that come close to wash your car screen

You open your window and say words very obscene

Everyone ignores me everyday a million times

They just push me away and throw a nickel or dime

 

 

When I use to feel sad, my ma use to hug me and give me sketchpad

But why now everyone hits me so bad?

My hands are tiny and feet with no shoe

I feel lonely sometimes but whom should I go and speak to

No one talks to me papa, do you think so I have a disease?

Can I not choose a life to live like I please?

 

 

My eyes look for love not silver or gold

But I do have a dream, which I never told

Whenever I cross a bakery shop I always pray

God, I dream of eating a chocolate bar one day!

 

 

P.S Street Kids, are human too who needs love, somehow help them fulfill their small little dreams