Staying Sober
by Sam M. Phillips

The proof is in the pudding,
I’m prodding myself to movement,
Seeking an improvement,
Changing my behaviour,
My only saviour,
Savour the peace
As drug cravings cease,
I crease a fold,
A story told in my past,
Cast a spell to end this hell,
Choose not to dwell on the wrongs now gone,
It’s a forlorn fantasy,
Teasing rather than pleasing,
Double-edge,
This sword drives a wedge,
Hedge my bets,
Sets a new standard,
Haggard man comes good,
Or at least he should,
He’s trying so hard,
Card drawn and memorised,
Become demoralised by patterns,
The man battens down his hatches,
Latches on to hope,
Unable to cope with present predicament,
A firmament crumbling,
A base beast belly rumbling,
Humbling the man before its might,
Seek to set this all right,
But it’s a tight squeeze
To end unease,
To please my senses
And lower defences,
The fences fall,
All is revealed,
An addict focusing all his will,
A learned skill,
Designed to avoid the kill,
Still the heart
And start a new page,
The sage sees his own way,
On this sober path he must stay.

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