Three years later,

I wasn’t prepared.

I looked at the driveway,

and headed for the stairs.

The cement was cracked.

The grass was to my knees.

I had no way of knowing,

How bad it would be.

To look at the house,

I once called a home.

To envision the memories,

That Seemed so far gone.

My emotions overwhelmed me.

I was angry, and I was sad.

My family fell apart,

And I still blamed my dad.

He blamed himself too,

That’s why he hasn’t quit

His heart is full of shame,

It doesn’t make sense.

He uses to numb the pain,

But every time he’s sober

The guilt of what he’s done

Is too much to get over.

It’s a cycle; never ending

Until it ends his life.

He uses and abuses

The drug that changed our lives


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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