Daily Rum
By Deb Benson
The light from the lantern grew dim The shadows began to shrink I watched him lean against the wall Sneaking from his flask a drink How sad to think he needed To drink his daily rum His family was waiting As passersby look and say "What a bum" A functional alcoholic Able to work each day Never making it home sober Having to drink along the way He finally trudges up the stairs Dinner waits for him He sups a bit, then goes to sit Until the light from the lantern grows dim. Written April 1st, 2002 © on Apr 01 2002 03:35 AM PST 0 • 1
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"The light from the lantern grew dim..."