Being eighteen years of age
Amid that teenage haze
Being ill at ease for some
I found that drug that won.

Just a tipple at the start
One now and then for lark
To help me chat the girls
And dance them in a twirl.

It worked its magic for a time
To explore this new world of mine
It seemed part of growing up
As all the pals they took the sup.

It became a habit and a pal
And soon the three of us did gel
So to entertain and chat
The Pub became my patch.

So this square foot became my shrine
And the grog it made me smile
The once cup that cheers
In time became my tears.

For the early morning shakes
A cure of spirit I would take
The outlook on life so frightening
So more and more white lightening.

That visious circle and bend
Put paid to family and friend
And a trust that I once knew
No more appeared in view.

For ten years or more
I tried that futile cure
The gawks became my only song
From the trenches it did not seem for long.

From sick of being sick
Turned into a dying kick
To walk away from the glass
The crutch and the past.

With doctor, nurse and mental house
I tried in vain to shake that louse
After six such trips the message came
That brought me back to the rooms again.

Feeling alone and a future so bleak
Without dutch courage so to speak
From a courage of flying blind
Came a spirit of another kind.

A higher power I recall
To guide me from those falls
And a new life I could fulfil
From the bottom of that hill.

The climb was slow and blind
But secure by Him and peace of mind
And from that hill top is a view
Of a life and a dream I never knew.

To live one day by one
And listen to lifes song
To find and live the inner self
And share with you my need of help.