Snapshots At St. Arbuck’s ™

A cold, hard rain falls
Out beyond my window
Out there where people live

And work

And play

And hope

People who aren’t anything at all
Like me

I’m sure that many of them
Still have dreams
Still believe that one day
Those dreams will come true

But that’s not me

I sit here in my chair
Right next to the front window
So I can look out on my world
Which consists of the street
Three floors down
And another apartment building
Across the way

Sometimes I imagine
That I’m looking out on Las Ramblas
In Barcelona, Spain
With its little flower stalls
Artist’s row
Human statues

Like I said
I have a good imagination

You might as well know
That I drink a little
Well, a lot, actually
I plan to quit
But I never get around to it

So, the truth is
I’m sitting here drinking
And listening to that hard rain

I drink every night
It’s about the only way I can fall asleep
I hate that about myself

And I cry
I cry a lot, if you want to know the truth
Some say I’m emotionally unstable
Mostly…I’m just sad

A raindrop splatters the glass
Begins its descent
Carving a miniature canyon
Through the grime I’d determined to clean
Last week

I never quite got around to that either

Many things have gone undone
Things that have just gotten
Out of hand

Quickly

Like the drinking

It’s a slippery slope, or so “they” say
And once you begin to slide
You don’t stop
Until you hit bottom

I think I’m there

At the bottom, that is

As life goes on

Out beyond my window