The Bottle of Destruction

A poem dedicated to my father

I sit here
staring at a bottle,
it's the bottle
containing everything
which stole
my life.

It stole my wife,
my children,
my friends,
my job,
and,
myself.

While I sit here
watching
the bottle,
my life flashes by.
The divorce I got,
The job I lost,
The family that
moved away,
from me.

I try to think,
about the family
I ruined,
The brother
I pushed away,
about my children.
About my own future,
and what lies
ahead.
But there is a fog,
Clouding my mind,
stealing my thoughts,
except for one.

So everything,
Which goes around
in my head,
Is not the past,
Nor the future.

No.

What goes around
in my head,
is the thought,
about
the almost empty
bottle,
in front of me,
and when I can stand,
without falling,
without staggering,
to get,
a new bottle,
A new,
Bottle of Destruction.