My Voice

I used to have a voice but somewhere along the way I lost it.

Everything has become so politically correct, so mild mannered. We have a whole society of sheep like me out there. I used to have a voice, I used to tell people where to go, no to fuck off.

I got my balls handed to me by everyone, my parents, my older family members, my female friends, people I didn’t know and I had to keep my p’s and q’s. Can’t tell the judge to sod off, have to be nice to some little snot that’s puking half words all over everyone. When somebody should knock him or her on there ass.

I’ve been beaten, yes me and I had to take it, because there where more of them than me. I had only me to tell my story. Why bother there’s more of them than me. Nobody cared, it was just because I drank.
Yes I drink, used to be really good at it actually. So when your like that your just fucking worthless, thrown away discarded, and of course it was always because of the drink.
I’ve been blamed for shit I never had anything do with. Doesn’t matter. When your labeled a drunk your always a drunk. According to how the rules work and all.
Actually, this drunk always worked, sometimes two and three jobs, never begged borrowed or stole. Tried to do all that everyone said I had to and when those tasks where over it was just me. Alone.

Been married twice, first one, didn’t work, we were to young and I wasn’t, well, wasn’t man enough to get the job done. I wasn’t good enough and that’s OK. I take the blame.

Spent the next several years trying to find out how to be the right kind of Man. Failed.


Then amazingly I met a woman that was amazing. We are still together, she hasn’t killed me yet.

She knows me through and through. Knows my pains and my heartaches. She has seen me struggle and lose and spurred me on to try again. She has been all things to me, most of all a friend. She is probably the only woman I’ve ever trusted.

She has also lived with the fear of losing me to the reaper. Been close a couple times. I do what I can to fend it off. But God is a bit out of my range, although I keep trying to get him or her to hear me.

So why so angry.
Its my voice, I need to get it back and it’s the only way I know how to get it going. HOWL, like Ginsberg said, get it out. Make the world hear you roar.

I need to find my voice once again, I used to have one so many years ago, it would only surface when I didn’t need it to. Now I need it to take front and center stage, because from what I’ve been told. It just a matter of time, God will answer my call.