Beyond me, in the dark somewhere
He stumbles; the weight of despair
Seeks refuge from a bottle in his hand
Beyond him, in the dark somewhere
His children wish that he was there
A drunkard’s love is hard to understand
Beyond me, in the dark somewhere
He wishes too that he was there
And curses demons lurking in the night
The spirit is a warrior sleek
But oh, the wretched flesh is weak
And sometimes he is just too tired to fight
© Janet Martin
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