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| The Stranger Before Me |
| By: Monica Strihavka |
| This is a poem I wrote about my mom being an alcoholic. It's something she's been struggling with and me and my brother have had to struggle with since we were little kids. She still continues to drink even after she divorced my father who used to be her excuse. This particular poem is about the long talks that I had with my mother. Then after a couple hours she seems to change out of no where. The alcohol has always affected her really badly. She would turn into something more like a monster instead of my own mother in what seemed like a blink of an eye. She had completely changed and after she changes like that, things always got uglier. |
| As we sit here talking I think to myself "I am so lucky to have a mother That is as wise and kind as you" Before I even finish that thought Something else takes over The light in your eyes slowly dims Darkness has engulfed them Leaving them cold and uninviting As we sit here talking I think to myself "Who are you?" A stranger sits before me now Mumbling gibberish into my ears Desperately I begin to search For some familiarity within those eyes Something to tell me that it's still you Yet I find nothing Where's my kind mother now? The stranger before me now Is too monstrous, too creature-like.... Too inhuman Everything that I've ever know and loved Has been torn from my soul.... By a single drink |
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