Uncles

Broken fathers, broken homes

Crumbling beneath the weight of the time, of the circumstance.

Open wounds lead to scars, daily reminders of the past.

No amount of alcohol can fill the cracks in one's soul.

So they keep pouring it in until the cracks deepen, requiring more pouring; the perpetual temporary fix-it

In their youth they were as untamed as mustangs and as ravenous as the oceans,

Which left them empty;

Until they relieve themselves of the struggle,

Until they find their peace.