Drowning

I’m a poet

I don’t feel 

Comfortable

With

Prose at all

But when 

I’ve constructed

A rhyme

It’s as if

I’ve wrote

A novel

I drown

I don’t float

In sorrow

This addiction

Could spell

The end

However

I’m not scared

Of dying

What I’m

Fearing

Most’s withdrawal

For a moment

I could be sober

But then begin

To open bottles

Alcohol

Is in my throat

I swallow

Time’s beginning

To slow and stall

I’m drinking

Like there’s 

No tomorrow

I wanna feel

Intense emotions

Ecstasy, depression

Love and horror

Coal’s a fossil

Fuel to make

The fire burn

Which in turn

Turns to thick 

Smoke and smog

The sea stirs

The waves

They either

Groan or roar

The boat

And oars

Break into pieces

It’s not worst

On the surface

The real danger

Is deepest

In the

Murkiest parts

Something lurks

It’s a shark!

It’s prey, bitten

In its robust jaws

Great Britain

Is my home

It’s where

In the

Closed-off cot

I was first given 

My first bottle

Britain is

To blame

Cause to be 

Totally honest

How can I not 

Feel like

Drowning

When

Surrounded

By open waters?

This tiny island

Berated, beaten

By rain

And wind

Upon its

Coastal shores

Where the

Life guard

Stays positioned

Alone, to watch

The sea

With sharp eyes

Razor vision

His desire

Is to save

The victims

Who are

Drowning

Yes, drowning

I don’t float 

In sorrow

This addiction

Could spell

The end

However

I’m not scared

Of dying

What I’m

Fearing

Most’s withdrawal

For a moment

I could be sober

But then begin

To open bottles

And when I do

Alcohol

Is in my throat

I swallow

Now the

Bottle’s empty

And so’s my soul

I’m hollow