Poetry About Alcohol – 10 Poems That Will Help Your Rehabilitation

Poetry about alcohol can help you with your addiction problem especially if you are in Rehabilitation.

You can be left contemplating what to do when a friend becomes an alcoholic. When it seems like all they care about is drinking, how can you support this person?

It seems like they’ve left the planet behind. For an addict, what would you do? Some choices confront them yourself about entering therapy or even attempting to shape a close friend’s intervention.

The reality is that you can’t do something to make anyone do something. The following is poetry about alcohol to help fight addiction.

1. Title: “I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed”

I taste a brew, a liquor strange –
From tankards filled with pearls arranged.
Not all the berries of Frankfort town
Can yield a spirit of this renown.

Intoxicated by the air I breathe,
A libertine in the dew beneath.
Reeling through endless summer days,
Inns of molten blue, where sunlight plays.

A sip of this celestial potion,
A blend of nature’s sweet devotion.
Drunken on the essence of the day,
Lost in the hues of a sky’s ballet.

So, let me dance in this celestial brew,
A tipsy waltz in the morning dew.
Inebriate of air, a joyful spree,
A debauchee in nature’s revelry.

2. Title: “When Alcohol Enters His Body”

He is very shy and friendly
His sturdy hands are always ready
To help anyone at anytime
A friend of everybody.

There are times when he is in a party
He cannot resist a bottle of whisky
At first he will join a toast with everybody
With a glass so tiny.

A couple of minutes, the whisky
Settled in his tummy
He would Start to talk so loudly
And ask to have big glasses of whisky.

He went into overdrive
As the effect of whisky lingers overnight
He feels like a King
And acts like a King.

3. Title: “Alcohol”

As I reached my twentieth year, I began to sip,
Thinking it made me a man, a misguided trip.
Soon I discovered I was greatly mistaken,
Lost in a fog that couldn’t be easily shaken.

On that January eleventh in ’82,
I realized what I needed to pursue.
Facing life head-on, without a disguise,
Rescuing myself from inevitable demise.

Now, I share with those on the brink,
Sorrows can’t be drowned in a bottle’s brink.
Trust in God, the sovereign Creator,
And avoid a destiny that’s far from greater.

Once you entrust your life to Jesus’s grace,
Struggles will be replaced with a peaceful pace.
Filled not with strife but a certain calm,
Ensuring you miss hell at your life’s final psalm.

4. Title: “Drinking Alcohol”

Drinking never made me a happier person
Nor did it allow me to enjoy my life more
If anything it caused my attitude to worsen
Then in the end I ended up face down on the floor.

It caused me to argue and also to fight
It made me believe that I am someone that I’m not
The drink made me obnoxious and never polite
All from this drink that I had happily bought.

I have done things that I am ashamed to admit
I have spent money that I should have saved
To that addictive drink I did happily submit
To that drink I am hopelessly and forever enslaved.

It doesn’t make me smarter and of course no wiser
I know one day it will be my downfall
It made me a bully a cheat and a womanizer
All from the drink I love, alcohol.

5. Title: “Blest Optimism”

Confronted by life’s intricate tales,
My soul seeks an optimistic trail.
Resolving what seems enigmatic,
I trust God, anchored in faith’s dynamic.

Here I stand, seeking the Lord’s direction,
Aware that His way is the best selection.
Guided by the Holy Ghost’s blessed zest,
As revealed in the Scriptures’ gentle crest.

In the midst of life’s bewildering strife,
My spirit triumphs in the strength of Christ.
Defeating doubt with wisdom’s guiding rod,
Secured by His truth against doubt’s flood.

Grateful for divine vision, a radiant light,
My heart finds peace in the Savior’s love bright.
Navigating challenges with peace from above,
Sharing the gift of life along heaven’s love.

6. Title: “If Hangovers Were Prayers”

The porch light glowed, a beacon divine,
The stairs, unsteady steps, to heaven incline.
My bed felt like an embrace, misguided care,
Not spun by biblical precision, but a different air.

In the mirror, a moment’s trace revealed,
A slight scuff on an impassive face, concealed.
My reflection, an impossible grace,
A leaden-footed dancer in life’s transient space.

The porch light, a glimpse of heavenly rays,
Stairs, a journey through uncertain days.
Bed, cradled by angels, misunderstood,
Yet, in imperfection, a dance of grace understood.

For in this dance of life, a paradox unfolds,
Heavenly lights and unsteady steps it holds.
Reflections of imperfection find their place,
As we navigate the leaden dance with grace.

7. Title: “Smashed”

Beside us, a small convertible arrives with flair,
Halting behind the sizable bus with care.
A beer can rests in the cup holder’s grip,
Could the driver’s audacity be any more equipped?

He glances my way, locking eyes with mine,
His demeanor prompts a wish to decline.
Lifting his beer can in a boastful cheer,
A needless display, loud and clear.

At last, the signal light shifts to green,
And oh, the spectacle that’s then seen.
Displeased with our faces, he hawks and spits,
Accelerating abruptly, he swiftly splits.

Through the intersection, he peels away,
Oblivious to our objections in dismay.
Unaware of the oncoming traffic rush,
Until he collides with that steel pole in a hush.

8. Title: “Slow Howl the Moon”

A lone wolf, wary of trusting a soul,
Sharp teeth, eyes like the darkest coal.
Howling to the moon, echoes return,
Igniting my heart, an internal burn.

Rage and lust, control, consume,
In the haze of hate, my hunt resumes.
Through thick forests with nettle’s sting,
My need for you, a sacred offering.

Your love reached in, pulled me ashore,
De-fanged my bite, then asked for more.
A sober stillness claimed my strife,
Mending my heart with a surgeon’s knife.

You are enough, making me whole,
I’ll keep us warm, chop the wood, my role.
Till winter storms forget their tune,
And we, as one, softly howl to the moon.

9. Title: “Bottle Rhyme”

Happiness comes in bottles, diverse in its way,
Measuring joy in colors, brightening the day.
Adopting many hues, a vibrant display,
Laying waste to monotony, in a joyous array.

Misery also bottled, like fuel to the flame,
Sharp as a knife, with a haunting claim.
Its clarity cuts deep, the soul it maims,
An outcome mirrored in life’s somber game.

In glass confines, emotions neatly stored,
Dictating life’s rhythm, a tale explored.
Colors of joy, shadows of despair,
Within bottled feelings, life’s contrasts declare.

So, happiness and misery, in bottles confined,
A complex cocktail of heart and mind.
Each sip unveils life’s intricate lore,
In glass vessels, emotions forevermore.

10. Title: “Divorced From Alcohol“

Divorced from Alcohol –
Didn’t pay alimony
Just regained my soul
And now I’m feeling free.

It was really amicable
There were no last regrets,
She said I will be able
In time, learn to forget.

Her scent though, still lingers
And dries my throat with thirst,
But I swore to be sober
And my life always comes first.

Yes, I have left Alcohol
And have no need to return,
My being is now whole
It’s only in dreams I yearn.

For an addict, what would you do? Some choices confront them yourself about entering therapy or even attempting to shape a close friend’s intervention.

The reality is that you can’t do something to make anyone do something. Hope this poem helps you through the rehab process