Beryl .. Just another day

Beryl

Sifting through what people had decided to give away,

Was all part of her normal day?

Looking for clothing to replace her tattered rags,

Beryl spent her time rummaging through old plastic bags,

Stuff the charity shop could not sell, or had no use for,

Would be left in bags for collection by the back door,

Her life so desperately hard, so she turned to drink,

Then her downward spiral continued to sink,

She takes shelter in a squat from time to time,

Where she drinks her large bottle of disgustingly cheap wine,

Bought from money that she had managed to beg,

Tipping up the bottle getting every last dreg,

Her teeth missing from fights and decay,

This not a problem as a smile had long since passed away,

Swigging her wine, with bottled clasped in her hand,

Uttering the words hard to understand,

No one cares the world watches on,

This rant of hers went on and on,

Only coming to a stop, when she could slur no more,

Her tired head hitting the cold hard floor,

The alcohol abused to maximum effect,

Possibly the only way she would sleep I dare suspect,

Maybe she dreams that she gently slips away,

So that she never has to face another torrid day.

(; Sad facts that on Christmas day it will be like just another day xx JB