A Child with Dreams

He remembers who he used to be,
before the booze, before the disease.

A child with dreams, a future so bright,
a kid who played, a son with fight.

An athlete, a friend, one who cared,
competitive natured and never scared.

A boy who laughed, a boy that smiled,
just a kid, who could run for miles.

As time went on, the boy grew older,
becoming a man, wiser and bolder.

In those years, he found the party,
found the beer, the booze was hearty.

College was great, independence as well,
with no curfew, he said what the hell?

A few more beers was always the case,
everyone tried, but couldn't keep pace.

Competitive drinking, was that a thing?
Yes it was, and he was the king.

In those years, the child was lost,
not even knowing it came with a cost.

The dreams and hopes were becoming blurred,
no vision, no light, words always slurred.

Booze was the substance that slowed him down,
also not knowing, he looked like a clown.

In all his days, he never changed,
just hit a wall, was tied to chains.

Years went by, the man woke up,
he was finished, done feeling stuck.

And just like that, the dreams came back,
the child in him, back on the attack.

How lucky can one man get?
A man of forty, still a child?

You bet.