It started with my father,
but in the end he couldn’t bother.
Then came my mother,
whose pain was from another.
Then I made my own choices,
from the din of all the voices.
So onto others I place no blame,
because it was always my own game.
And the games that I played,
in the end only betrayed.
Because the tools that I had forged,
and all the rules that I ignored.
Kept me in constant conflict,
and then finally a convict.
And built in me a hunger,
for the days when I was younger.
But those days were long gone,
with no hope of a new dawn.
I ran for years and years blindly,
and the world seemed so unkindly.
Then those tools that I had used,
and the substances I abused.
They all had finally failed me,
I felt that fate had finally nailed me.
But I found a new tribe,
and the steps that they prescribe.
And while difficult at first,
they also lifted my curse.
In freedom today I walk,
and of these steps I often talk.
So that others with my addiction,
may also escape affliction.