For Papa Bear
In this empty doorway once stood
A man of good grace; a man full of life
His good luck finally left him
When he perished, away from his kids and wife
He drank himself into solitude
Into illness, and into depression
His temper would roar like thunder
With every sip of his deadly addiction
His body was of iron
Yet, his heart was of gold
He had fists of fury and strength of an ox
He was witty and sharp, and never sold
Alcohol became too close a friend
It was, as he always said
The cause of his problems
And the solution to his unbearable dread
Reality struck him where it counted most
He accepted life as it was to be
He pulled himself from the wreckage
Dusted himself off and walked carefree
Although bruised and scarred
He managed to live on
He made a complete recovery
And was able to witness another dawn
His fears ultimately caught up with him
For he thought he out-ran what he lacked
He passed on with the Lord on his side
Yet, his memories will never fade to black.