Writing when sober is a thing of the past.
My family’s gone and friends going fast.
Brothers turned his back, filled with shame, when looking down.
Sister sits at home wearing her new born crown.
Spent months in the decrepit jailhouse.
Rehab is my only house.
Another druggie behind bars.
I have no retreats for my life in need of repair.
Six more months with good behavior.
This wont make my life any better.
Ive been in and out since I was a teenager.