William H.A. Willbond MSM, CD

THE DRINK

To ease the pain of existence
And to dull harsh reality
I took to the drink till I couldn’t think;
Till that drunk in the mirror was me!

Working at the CS Police Service[1]
made my comrades all quite nervous
as I punched the windows out of the COMCEN[2]
Sure, I didn’t wish to frighten those good men

Drinking whiskey wine and Porter
Was no cure for my disorder
the drink, it only made my problem worse
Ah the drink it was a terrible awful curse

In the cells I saw those fellows
Their liver’s turned skins yellow
Babbling on, because their brains were fried
From drink my friend, is really why they died

So I knelt beside my bed
folded hands and raised up head
asking God to help me change my life
I was needed by my children and my wife

I do it one step and one day at a time
Through ICROSS[3] work and writing rhyme
You too my friend can overcome the drink
May God bless all who come back from the brink!

Author’s Note: The Chief Constable – a good man said nothing – he had the Windows in the Communications Centre repaired by public works. At the time I was drinking two 26 ounce bottles of Bailey’s Irish Cream per day. Alcohol is cunning and deceiving and it has ruined a lot of people.