We received the following poem from a former gambling addict who now helps those suffering from addiction. Many people do not realise that recovering addicts are currently denied access to their support groups; they are not allowed to meet. This can lead some of them into despair or to a return to their addictions. Colin tries to give them Hope.
Corona Death
The wind has got my number, it’s responding to the dead.
Damn banshees dealing poker from the bottom of my bed.
Withered cards in bony hands are playing for my soul.
There is no higher ante as this virus takes its toll.
Darkness slips across the floor and takes a vacant seat.
Despair is your companion when this demon comes to feast.
Whispered words on fetid breath pollute the rancid air.
Will friend or foe come vanquish me and fill the final chair?
Lose or win with mortal sin I surely will be damned.
Might heaven send a Seraphim to play the final hand?
A hooded figure steals inside as shadows hide his face.
Devils growl beneath their breath, he takes the final place.
Five-stud is the game of choice and soon the cards are dealt.
Earthly goods are worthless here, my soul the only wealth.
No beasts attempt to lift their hands, nor angels care to see,
For they have played this game before and know who’s come for me.
Eyes shut tight, hand closed on hand, silent pleas to stop.
Time will be the doctor now, this game is just his prop.
The cure is not a tablet as the cause has long been known.
For if I’m to win this battle I must do it on my own.
Waking light escapes the sun and finds a welcome space.
The dark cannot avoid its gaze and leaves the room in haste.
Curtains drawn by drunken arms with eyes afraid to see.
But hope has come to play this day and hope depends on me.
Colin Walker
Monaghan
Colin is also an entertainer specialising in children’s entertainment and is currently working on projects to give hope to children for whom the current crisis can be very disorientating. You can find out more and book Colin via his website Colin Walker Entertainment
