By Ken Blue
January 6th, 2013. Filed under: Poems.
whiskey_bottles                   By Ken  Blue   It was lost somewhere, a long time ago How, and where I lost it I do not know I retraced old paths in my mind But emptiness is all I find.   A friend called Comfort keeps me warm inside And helps me forget pain I cannot hide. I come home; she’s waiting for me Pressed to my lips, easing misery   My bed’s empty, wife, and children are gone Comfort and I share the house all alone She says forget; I should party and play Soon I will forget what I lost that day   Country Gentleman made a fool of me Christian Brothers; not Christian, or family Black Velvet and Four Roses the casket doth line Jose Cuervo was never a friend of mine   Comfort’s no longer comfort for me She owns my soul, and my destiny You’ll find many like her in liquor stores Awaiting the fools who walk through her doors   Though beautifully packaged to catch your eyes Behind each label is death in disguise I now know what it was I lost back there It was my childhood faith, Bible, and prayer   I still see Comfort everywhere I go She beckons me come, but I must say no By God’s grace, I must find my way back there To my childhood faith, my Bible, and prayer.
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  1. Dave Reese

    How true on the bottle and atheists!
    “Miserable comforters are ye all”
    Keep on writing Bro Ken, God uses it. We use your Acts book in our Philippine Bible schools and students comment on its blessing to them all the time.
    Bro Dave

  2. Ken Blue Ken Blue

    Thanks Dave for your prayers. Ken

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