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I originally wrote the two poems below, after receiving an e-mail about two months ago.  The message was
clear, even after being out of this person's life for over 14 years - I am still the main reason for their life.

The last week of August, I went on a road trip to different AA groups that helped me during my early sobriety.  
It was from one meeting that I learned of the difficulties one person from my past is living with.

These difficulties are all a product of this person's refusal to change and quit being a victim.  If you receive
my
newsletter
you know more about this story.  If not, all I can say is if someone in a family quits drinking, they are
not the only person who needs help.

In my early recovery, I dreamed of the day this person would change; admit defeat and get help.  But so many
people told me it was never going to happen.  Sadly, I'll have to admit, that this person will never change.  No
one will ever know who this human being was really meant to be.  Someday I have a feeling I will read about
this person in the newspaper being beat to death, or shot to death by a drug induced friend.

That e-mail now has a new meaning.  These people from my past, refused help at the time and are still living in
the past.  And part of that past is me.  They still live it, while I've moved on.  I find no joy in the way their lives
have turned out, just sadness.
To many enemies

time goes to fast…
yet… now it moves to slow
no happy medium
and the time runs out

just waiting… waiting…
for a ray of hope
a light in the tunnel
that is still pitch black

hard to keep faith
hard to move forward
when surrounded by doubt and fear
more then just paranoia

walls continue to cave in
finding strength… gets harder
securing answers
with still more questions

is failure part of destiny
or the creation of a new hell
built on false pride and denial
a journey of pain

can not accept the easy way
martyrdom a strong badge
difficult to cut free
but… why
It’s Time

the anger still rages
the hate still alive
the pain still real
though ions have past
the fire still burns

unable to accept happiness
keeping the victim alive
instead of moving on
keeping stories alive
that died years ago

forever living in the dark
no glimmer of light
obsessed with a past
that can’t be forgotten
but… maybe… forgiven

time to let go
time to move on
time to heal
time for peace
time for forgiveness
Memories of a past… filled with shame
Not much to say here... our past can destroy our lives if we continue to give it power.  Good saying from AA
holds true -

Let Go and Let God
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Creating dreams...
by recognizing co-dependency
Co-dependents anonymous
OBSESSION

followed blindly
never questioning the reason
for what others believed
slowly dying
in a world that wasn't mine

ashamed of the quiet
that surrounded me
while bombs exploded
both around... and inside me
no idea of any truth

eyes saw the destruction
but no one understood
why the soul died
and sadly... no one cared
when I jumped off that cliff

an illusion into a world
where God had no place
anger and rage was the power
that supplied the strength
to play the games... lies and manipulation

alcohol and drugs
just part of the formula
control of others
brought self-worth
an accomplishment of conquest

but along the way
needed more booze... more control...
it was the end of sanity
no longer controlling
just... being controlled
UNKNOWN

cuddled in the comfort of a bed
covered with warm blankets
in the peace of silence
dreams come before sleep
feeling a Presence
sleeping alone
but not lonely

sleep brings a world to life
unimaginable when awake
a nirvana shared only by oneself
yet... yearning to bring it to life
I wonder is this dream
really... His reality

surrounded by love
sharing in the lives of family
though on different paths
coming together...
from memories of a past
begging to come back to life

not alone... but at times... lonely
for a part of the past
which wasn't all that bad
before the wars... before addiction
I shed a tear tonight
for a dream... I doubt
will ever become reality

to spend a day... or two...
with the family of my birth
no schedules... no timelines
burying the past... and just...
just... getting to know each other
maybe for the first time

in the comfort of my bed
I still dream
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last updated on 7/30/2008
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Trash With Class

she matured with class
but what shed did in private
was pure trash
she held her head high
her joy… making boys and men
yell and scream… and finally sigh

Pleasuring others was the goal
performing these acts
she’d sell her soul
photos and film would not lie
she loved the attention
but her marriage died

children couldn’t believe
what they’d see
that was their mom
on Internet TV
lost respect for themselves and others
questioning what happened to their mother

dad couldn’t handle any more
finally he’d leave
all he felt was numb and deceived
for awhile mom sat
high on her throne
but eventually… she’d end up alone
the attention she needed
would quickly fade
lying in the bed she had made

At first her body passed the test
wore out… just to many men
now she was just a mess
no one could remember
how she used to be
a slut… a whore…
is all they’d see

her worse fears would come true
loneliness… it grew and grew
she sunk to new levels of obscenity
on her knees… “please be with me”
like a slave she was sold
and passed around
she became the tramp of the town

no husband… no daughters or sons
she prayed for forgiveness
as she shot the gun
So ill… So sick

so ill... so sick
spit in the mirror
at an image that won't go away
fell into a trap
thought it was love
just... dysfunctional needs

a need to feel power
to be in control
to be a hero... your hero
a show of strength
providing protection
from this evil world

a need for your acceptance
a wonderful high... your approval
over time... this need
needed more
more approval... more love
more acceptance

yet... got less
fantasies were lies
love was manipulation
to fulfill needs
dysfunctional needs
so ill... so sick
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