The mourners numbered four.
Three boys …a woman, slight.
Silent was their vigil,
One stranger passed tonight.
The wife’s shoulders straightened
Walked away, empowered mind.
The arguments now over
Peace, the new divine.
He won’t be found in heaven.
Hell’s tavern he will roam
No more fear, my darlings
He won’t be coming home.
The local pub is crowded
They’ve come from far and wide,
One Good ‘Ole Boy they’ll sorely miss
So many tears are cried.
A ruckus is arisin’
His buddies raise their glass
Beloved memories overheard
‘Bout how he’d saved their ass.
“Let’s take up a collection.”
Those barroom voices plan,
“We must erect a statue for
One mountain of a man.”
One man, two stories told.
Forensic feelings, black and gold…
——————————————————–
For Jingle Potluck:
Beaches and Mountains
Sillyfrog's Blog 
This really is illuminating, to give the perspective of those who’s lives were touched by a abusive drunk. It would certainly be a good thing, if those who thought this person was a great guy, could comprehend how he affected the lives of those he was supposed to love.
Actually, one of my sons-in-law came from such a family, and it took him a while to learn how different other people live, and show love to those close to them. He really is a kind and loving husband and father, as well as a good provider.
I love happy endings! Your son-in-law should be very proud that HE broke the cycle.Bravo to him!
Wow,Susan. That is so powerful. What a neat perspective on the theme.
Thanks…This is why I spend weekends away from the computer…great time to think:-)
This is just so real. It is amazing how a person can have a private and public side that are nothing alike.
Absolutely tickled that you enjoyed it my friend!
Too bad this tragic fiction is sometimes real…