You're drunkenness is like a toddler,
Trapped inside until you take a shot,
And then he's out and about, running around with no care for what other people are feeling.
I'm struggling.
It's five pm and your toddler is screaming, it wants freed,
And you'll free it with a shot of vodka,
And sometimes I see you smile; really smile.
And it makes it worth it.
But other times I see the tears in my sister's eyes because your toddlers out and he doesn't understand the power of his tongue,
I shouldn't judge. I know I shouldn't judge,
But I'm not a toddler, I'm an adult in a pit,
And I've never been very good with kids.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poetry
PoetryMy only escape is through my writing. Welcome to my world ~ It's not very pretty, but I hope it makes you feel something. *Cover credit; Kaylannette
