I wrote this poem 4 years ago as a way of coping with my husband's addiction to alcohol. It helped to think of alcohol as a mistress; seductive, yet still a choice. Just reading it has helped me feel better so many times. So I want to share it with others now that it isn't so raw. Hopefully it helps someone else too. A Mistress Called Addiction Your wife won't go sliding again down this slope. Your love won't lie dormant, for lies and false hope. "She" talks in your ear, "you deserve all the best." "She" turns loving words into plea's from a pest. "She" spins and she lies, making falsehood sound real. Her contract if signed is a permanent deal. "She" calls to you daily, under rules you do hide. Not on weekdays or work days. Just a little on the side...... "She" creeps among friends, she lurks in the fun. "She's" ready to lure you from your life in the sun. Mistress wants you to love her. She cry's for that love. She dares you to live on the edge. She won't shove. Mistress works her way sweetly through the roadblocks all set. She plots for your soul and your mind to forget. "Don't trouble yourself with your wife's heartfelt pleas" "You deserve some due freedom after work" she will tease. Once she gets you you'll wonder why your life fell apart. She shields you from pain borne of choices, none smart. You will hide from the guilt more often than not. In her foggy, drunk hold, you forget how you fought. You had beat her before, now relapse seeks a price. Will you fall again deep? Will she always entice? As your wife sails away in this tumultuous sea, You stay with your mistress. "Don't worry" says she. Your mistress, she'll protect you from decisions so dumb. Here drink a little more..... The answers will come. Her name is addiction. She makes you forget. Along with the cause, soon comes the regret. No longer own much. No house and no wife. She carefully groomed you to love her, not life.

i would like to add that Addiction is a dreadful, fatal, chronic disease over which we are powerless. Keep the focus on yourself,Live one day at a time trusting HP and letting go and letting God

Welcome Mary-I also found writing a way to cope with my life. Perhaps about 40 years ago I wrote a short story about my family of origin. I called it The Robot Family and I still have it. Journaling of all sorts is a good tool. Living with this disease is certainly a challenge. Keep coming back, Lyne

Welcome to the board from a fellow Hoosier!

Your poem is truth. It is his truth, whether he knows it or not. Do you have any poems about you, and your truth?

Kenny