Cold Turkey

I must confess
the drug that’s made my life a mess,
isn’t crack or coke or weed,
not even alcohol, shrooms, or speed,
but presidential politics.
It all began
just watching Hillary on TV,
brandishing her brains while she
was trashing Trump and I was giggling with glee.
Then, before I knew I’m tuning in to catch
the latest tweets and fact-checked-fake-news batch
appearing on the tube.
My morning fix turned into night,
could not resist or even fight,
it was all I cared to talk about.
I tried to rid myself of this rot
by going to a safe reception spot
where someone else controlled the shows,
but found that wouldn’t slack my thirst,
not even drying out at detox first,
so in the end, I just up and quit —
cold turkey.
I paced the halls
and climbed the walls,
walked the ledge,
even teetered on the edge
until my sponsor pulled me back.
My mood then changed to light from sour
as I connected with my higher power
and learned to live without the daily rush.
So now I do without the CNN,
even though I recognize a yen,
but manage to avoid it altogether.
And even though I slip from time to time,
really, it’s not such a crime,
it’s made me better for it.
For every time I trip and fall,
then get up, I stand more tall,
and realize,
failure’s something from which to learn,
and with the help of friends,
strength and wisdom, virtues I can earn.
So if anyone out there
is trying to get this monkey off your back,
let’s all join together in a presidential pack,
refusing to submit to this defeat.
Hi, my name is Larry.

Please follow and like us: