I had my first taste of alcohol today
I'm of age now, but it still felt wrong
Momma would be proud
Guess I'm a good Methodist after all
Or maybe it was the whispers I heard with every sip
Daddy telling me how
His granddad was a mean drunk
Who died in a ditch with a bottle in his hand
I don't want to be my uncle, who stumbles and slurs
And drank three wives away
And I don't want to be my dad
Reformed, but always afraid of that next drink
The weight of generations is a heavy legacy
And I simply don't have the strength
So why tempt fate?
Beer don't taste good anyway
YOU ARE READING
A Tree Takes Root
Poetrya tree takes root out of the seeds that were sown as deep in the forest a new life is grown
