An Alcoholic
The term above is what I am
So disturbed from life I am
So toyed with and broken like a vase
The pieces have been glued and shattered
And glued and shattered
Again and again.
But each time I break I gain a flower
Right now I am a dozen roses
But my roses have thorns
The thorns represent my hurt
I am hurting so much
Just as others are hurting too.
We are all a garden of roses.
�Mary E. Becker