So many times, I made an excuse.
Something had happened to make me blue.
Not only wrongs, but sometimes rights;
celebration or mourning, I had one plight.

To the convenience store or local saloon,
I had to get a drink, sometimes before noon.
I did not understand the urges I had.
If I couldn’t get a drink, I was fightin’ mad.

How could they kick me out of this bar?
I needed another- they said I’d gone too far.
“Go home,” they said, “you’re a hopeless drunk.”
Family and friends said my ship had sunk.

I really needed help, I could finally see;
a repeated suggestion from those who cared for me.
“There is a place to help you understand
why you feel this way, and recover you can.”

I walked through the door, and was surprised to see
people in suits and dresses approaching me.
They can’t have the same problem I do.
They look professional and happy, too.

They welcomed me so graciously.
We were one in the same, I soon would see.
A disease of the mind is what we shared.
They had the solution and they truly cared.

I listened to them share their tales.
Some of them had also gone to jail.
How did they know the things I’d done?
They were telling my story, and I was stunned.

A sudden realization came: this is where I belong.
This passion for sobriety is so strong.
Let’s not drink today, and help others do the same.
Hit a meeting daily, and be sure to pray.

I have never felt this good.
Finally, I’m understood.
The people here are genuine friends.
One day at a time, until the end.