Beer Bottles and PillsA Poem by DoormanDanFor all those people who are in foster care, feeling lost and alone. Inspired by my personal experienceBeer Bottles and Pills I close my eyes and rewind back to a time When strife sliced up my life with a serrated knife Mother and father struggled to pay the bills For our budget had gone towards beer bottles and pills My brothers and sister, they couldn't do anything But watch as our parents again risked everything Wasting money by day and themselves at night And yet still surprised to find that they always fight Meanwhile, I just sat there on the filthy floor Nice and warm, playing my Nintendo 64 Unaware of the scary scene that had formed And that soon we wouldn't be in that house anymore One day the bank came, to our parents' dismay And with haste proceeded to take our house away Which left us homeless and broke, trying to cope Roaming the whole state from place to place with the hope That we could get back up to our knees at least And be able to afford more than fast food feasts But still the family was left deathly ill As our budget had gone towards beer bottles and pills Meanwhile, I just sat there, without a damn clue Just a six year old boy who was failing in school For I had missed so many days and was refused The ADHD meds I needed to pull through My siblings, they eventually moved out They wanted to take me, there was never a doubt But they couldn't, and man, it brought them so much pain For me to stay in that place with nothing to gain But abuse in the shape of endless neglect And a domestic mess deserving no respect And the worst part was that my parents couldn't tell They had made their son's abode a physical Hell Meanwhile, I remained unaware, without fail Wondering why Daddy had been locked up in jail On the snowy night that Santa's sleigh set sail To bring happiness to all of those kids who wail Soon we arrived at the American Lodge A hotel that, thankfully, didn't cost a whole lot Where we stayed until that gloomy day when Fate Rewrote the words he carved onto his stone slate In a drunken rage, Dad struck Mom with the phone That was the one mistake for which he couldn't atone Then later, while he was in his prison cell The police found some drugs my Mom had planned to sell Meanwhile, I was confused and honestly scared Tightly squeezing my favorite stuffed polar bear When my Mom gently ran her hand through my hair And told me, "The police have to take me somewhere." The following year brought a torrent of tears Though the parts near the beginning aren't all that clear I went to live with my brothers for a while And then was forced to leave them and their soothing smiles I was left in a stranger's place, so afraid She was a scary lady who never refrained From shouting every time I messed something up And left me just longing to feel like I was loved Meanwhile, I curled up on that alien bed Sometimes wanting to cry until my eyes turned red Praying daily that this madness my life bred Would soon end along with this emotive bloodshed And then after four months of pleas unanswered I received a bright sign that things would get better In the form of a caring, married couple Who were looking to save a small child from struggle The moment I moved in, I felt loved again Sobs no longer smothered every tired breath And I still remember the day I was told "Son, welcome to your brand new home!" Now a decade's passed and I've since then moved on Still I thank God everyday at the dawn of dawn I've changed so much more than you could ever know And I've promised myself that I'll never cease to grow The boy who once received grades that were so low Is now a college student on an honor roll With a love for puns, family, friends and life And he will be that way until the day he dies Dedicated, with much love, to those who are/have been in foster care for any reason. This is probably the most personal piece I'm ever going to write © 2018 DoormanDanAuthor's Note
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Added on February 8, 2017Last Updated on June 24, 2018 Tags: Adoption AuthorDoormanDanManchester, Levenshulme, United KingdomAboutI'm a twenty seven year old preschool teacher who enjoys writing poetry, songs, stories, paintball and other things. My favorite things to do are parkour, video games, listening to music, and making .. more..Writing
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