In reality we were starving. The first book Poetry For Life contains poems dealing mainly with drug and alcohol abuse. These men were constantly in our house so we never really questioned a strange man in our house. His writing is influenced both by his long Oklahoman and Native American heritage as well as by national and international topics including cultural, political, and social issues. Mum came out of hospital and continued to drink and began running around saying that she was fine and could walk.
The older Wright left the family when Franz was eight, and only stayed in sporadic contact with the family. Because drinking is also fun. One of my uncles was like a father to me. I had a different childhood to all my friends: Within months a series of events led to both my father and brother leaving and moving into an apartment and my mum was left wallowing in her drunken states ringing and abusing everybody she still does this. There used to be dogs running through the house constantly and the house was never cleaned. His oldest daughter and I look like brother and sister. I started hanging out with a very rough group where I lived. The students have recently received funding from the YSI Den to publish a book with the stories of adults who grew up with an addict in the home. Like writer Mary Karr, his onetime colleague and friend, he overcame addiction and converted to Catholicism, finding some measure of stability in the last sixteen years of his life. A small few used to beat me. When I was a child my uncle and aunts tried to take me away from my home by taking me on day trips with my sister. According to Roberts these characteristics of poetry "would not translate the same in other languages. In those months, mum had fallen whilst drunk and tried to hit my father with a golf club and broke her femur. I live with my grandmother, having left school at 17 as I suffered from depression and I went back to do my Leaving Cert and moved out of my home. Different organizations refer people to his poetry web site  to fight alcoholism, drug abuse, and terrorism. At 15 years old I would come home from school and meet up with my mother and grandmother in the pub. This is what a hard life looks like. When she was a child her father abused her and her brothers. In reality we were starving. She had several serious operations and she nearly died as her blood is extremely thin due to medication and alcoholism. The flip side of this sad picture is the soul-crushing pain of the alcoholic, pain that is both the cause and the effect of drinking. I will never get my childhood back but I now have a great relationship with my father and my mother now has the life she deserves. My sister was so upset with me for leaving her with my mother back in Ireland. I left both poems in the liquor aisle of my local drugstore.
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