The AA Blog

reminds me of the st. franics prayer:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon:
where there is doubt, faith ;
where there is despair, hope
where there is darkness, light
where there is sadness, joy
O divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.

This is a poem I wrote for a friend who didn’t make to recovery.

Preamble

When they found him
That cold September morn
His rosy nose was blue

Poem

Don’t let em fool ya kid
You can have a couple
It’s easy as 1 2 3
4gotten is the evening
As the sun
Closes your burning eyes
Morning after
Call into work
And waste your life away

Don’t let em
Kid you fool
Three’s easier
Goin down
And she looks so hot
you buy her one
Have the same again
A shame
You couldn’t see her eyes
As they laughed
Your life away

Postscript

At the wake
His pals would roast him
then put an empty
Beer stein on his stool

William C. West Jr.
In Aftercare