He's got her finally in his grasp.
He smiles in silent contentment.
She loved him at first sight - lost her appetite.
Now her flesh sags - lost between her bones.
All the symptoms of love,
Her Adonis lately absent - locked away by others.
She sits, broken hearted.
The intimate, lifelong affair
Sought out each Irish pore,
Fed each child ignoring moment,
Saved her when the tormentor
Half strangled her over the bath.
Bacchus has emptied her cup,
Supped all of her promise,
Used her for his own drunken ends.
He has redecorated her flesh,
Jaundice yellow
Replacing Hibernian rosiness.
She has left him for a while,
Rescued by her family.
Soon we will buy Mass cards,
Black ties will underpin
Melancholic mouths.
That will not be sad.
She has been thirty years in the dying.

Joe Hughes visit joehughes.org.uk

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alcoholic-8/