Benylin short poem

Uploaded by Andrew H Hems

I took a good few
Viscous glugs, that
Night. My mother’s breakdown
Was getting to me and

My pity was destroying
Me from the intestines, up.
Couldn’t be Christian guilt,
Surely? But I felt good again –

Her wringing hands and fastly
Morphing quirks, fading into
A drunken cortex and my troubles,
Sleeping at my feet. She walked

As I staggered along the old
Hedon Road to see Dad, at work or,
Perhaps to ‘catch him out’ but
He wasn’t there anyway.

Maybe he knew we were coming.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "Benylin"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Rebecca Lyle

Sadly sweet write of emotions for a Father and Mother. Nice job.