Written Memorial Day Weekend, 2009
He was broken from his glory days;
the whiskey wasn’t working anymore.
There was no way he’d ever change his ways;
he drove back over to the liquor store.
The devil had been on his mind again;
he fought the feeling today was his last.
He could not twelve-step away from the pain;
just praying that this moment would soon pass.
Then he awoke in vomit, blood and tears;
the Sig Sauer was lying on his chest.
He had been dying daily all these years;
now he was dying for a lasting rest.
He knew he’d never see his friends again,
then bowed and said sarcastically, Amen.