Print

Outcast Of Sobriety

A fall from grace.
He's a hard drinker with a nicotine cough,
Sleeps like a dog in a cardboard box,
He's the scourge of society, a wasted space,
An outcast of sobriety who fell from grace.

He was the star pupil back in the days,
Destined for fame and fortunate ways,
Handshakes were plenty on his way to the top,
It's a pity his infamy didn't know when to stop.

Rubbed many a shoulder with powerful men,
Worked his way up in their confidence,
Smiled at the camera and waved to the crowd;
A boy who would make any mother proud.

But he found a weakness in their selfish ploy,
Something pertaining to jobs for the boys,
Brought it up at a meeting and was taught how to hush,
So he fed the scandal with whisky mouthwash.

The scandal was leaked to a well-known rag,
He never leaked it, yet still he was sacked,
He was expendable, not of the elite,
'We hope you understand. It's for the best, we believe.'

With a bee in his bonnet, (his innocence pleaded)
Fell on deaf ears, he was no longer needed,
He tore up his c.v. and headed to town,
Walked into a barroom and tried hard to drown.

It's a dog-eat-dog world, that's what they say,
Only the fittest can come through it unscathed.
He was fit as a fiddle when they laid the blame,
Now his only credit is his infamous name.

Back then, he drank hard to heal a sick soul,
Now he drinks hard to keep out the cold,
And the nicotine stains that tattoo his fingers,
Serve as reminders of a betrayal that lingers.

He's a hard drinker with a nicotine cough,
Sleeps like a dog in a cardboard box,
He's the scourge of society, a wasted space,
An outcast of sobriety who fell from grace.
By
Published: 3/10/2016
Reflections of the Mind...
Bouquets and Brickbats