Wednesday, May 22, 2013

"Some Day Street" - An Alcoholic's story

This is an Alcoholic's story. The author is unknown. I have edited it and made one or two alterations to make it scan better. It certainly tells it like it is.

Some Day Street
Some Day Street is a one way street that leads to the Gates of Hell;
It's littered with broken bottles; it reeks with a stale wine smell.
It's the street of human derelict, the place of forgotten Men,
Who stagger and sway along the way, and are never seen again.


Some Day Street is a sunless Street, where the days and nights are one;
And each tomorrow brings pain and sorrow, till life of Man is done.
It's a fearful Street, a hidden Street, that lives in each drunken brain;
That screams and cries, and tries and tries to find some day again.


Some Day Street is a lonely Street; it's always dark and drear,
Where the eyes of men are dull and tired and forever filled with fear.
There's not a smile on that cruel mile, but death in every block:
And the Devil smiles and the Devil beguiles the souls he has in Hock.


Some Day Street is a Hellish Street; it's full of broken dreams.
It smells of broken bodies, and laughs at their drunken screams.
It's a timeless Street, a faceless Street; its Men are faceless too;
There they stay, till they’re laid away, in a box six foot by two.


Some Day Street is a lonely Street, it claims, it maims, it slays.
Men toss and turn, and sob and yearn for the memories of other days.
The days before they hit the Street, when life was good and new,
When each day and night was clean and bright, in a world where dreams come true.


Some Day Street is a jealous Street that takes its victims breath;
Each step you make, each drink you take, lead you on to Death.
It's a dim-lit Street, a lying Street, that fools each seeking heart;
It shades each one and when it's done, it tears each one apart.


Some Day Street is a One-Way Street that lets few people go.
I've lived on Some Day Street myself and that is how I know.
The Wino, the Dinoh, the Hypo, the Big Shot and the Bum,
The Mackaroo too, I've swilled their wine and run.


I know the lying garish lights, I know the Hellish dreams,
I know the Alley and the Dives and Jails, I know the cries and screams.
I know the filth of Some Day Street, I know the cry of shame,
because I came from Some Day Street, with all its Hell and Pain.


I've found a way to live each day and not go back again;
Found a way to carry on, and leave behind the pain.
Friends who live on Some Day Street said that there was a way,
To leave the Hell of Some Day Street and that was through AA.


I've not been back to Some Day Street, in weeks, in months, in years.
I fear the Hellish Street no more, its blackouts and its fears.
Those Friends of mine showed me a path that I gladly trod.
Out of the depths of Some Day Street, on to the path of God.
Anonymous

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