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Under the Influence...

When my mother's
mother was alive:
She drank in the
morning, all day
and all night -
Pabst Blue Ribbon
was her
champagne.
She drank and drank,
until her liver ~
started to complain.
She died of Cancer
when I was eight.
She was only fifty-six,
I learned that
sometimes people
get diseased -
Some sickness
cannot be fixed.

At night, my

father drinks
himself to sleep;
with six Bud Lights,
He dims the lights;
his life is complete.
At fifty-six,
he admits how much
"Dad likes his beers."
No concerns
no regrets.
How easily
a mind forgets
your dreams, your fears...
Under the influence.

My Dad's mom;
we call her Grams,
she never had a
drink in hand -
She was too busy,
workin' the land;
and providing
for her family.
She lives today,
at eighty-nine,
on her own,
she's doin' fine.
I'm so glad she's
doin' fine.

My mother died,
Fourteen months ago.
She was only sixty-five.
Dependency on
presciption pills,
the only joy in her life.
Cancer found it's way to her;
a wrath she didn't deserve -
Her weakness
got the best of her;
but I don't think any
less of her.

I am a child of addiction.
Like a passionate
crime -
I'm doing my time,
a cruel,
unwarranted
conviction.
Consequence
is my affliction.
Powerless to
this addiction.
People talk about
choices and making
informed decisions;
but I believe, we
are conceived,
with a prenatal
predisposition.
DNA a component,
an undeniable
provision...

I have insight,
I have wisdom,
I'm telling you,
not as a victim,
but, as an alcoholic,
I have 3D - vision -
I can't help but to
give in to -
Alcoholism ~
it exists in the
roots of a
family's tree.
Poisonous,
inheritance,
lowers my
tolerence;
instinctively
intoxicates me.
Sometimes, I wish
I were free -
Sometimes, I don't
really want to be,
under the influence.

Learn more about this author, Crystal Elizabeth Warner.
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