The wagon’s on fire

Here I sit before the feast,
An indulgent mountain of food, but I am unable to eat.
The weight of a thousand past sins nails me to my seat,
And so, with no route of retreat, I brace myself
For the inevitable onslaught.

It comes sooner than expected.
I can’t smell the booze, but his actions betray his oathbreaking,
The obnoxious tirade of abuse which once would have me quaking
In fear has no sway over me since awakening to the fact
That I will never become him.

Yet still I am disappointed.
I had dared to hope that this time the bridges would weather the storm,
But as always, they lie torn to pieces by that tiny molecule of the form
C2H5OH, the hated chemical, that chemistry of the damned which
Indiscriminately dissolves lives.

So I grin and bear it.
It’s all I can do, just hold out against the relentless assault
Until my time has been served and he grows tired of the insults.
When the tumult ends, I am discharged and forgotten
Until the next time.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s