silent addiction

in the back of the closet
on an old wire hanger
hung the coat
his father had left behind
nothing fancy
brown leather
sweat stained, worn
buttons made
of simulated deer horn
it hung there for years
a painful reminder
of all that had been lost
when the sirens call
of the corner bar
became unresistable
and he crawled
into the wasteland
a barren place
where scattered bones
were a silent reminder
of all he had sacrificed
at the altar
of addiction