Boiled as an Owl

The old alcoholics,
crafting their book
to carry the message,
spun pictures of words —
the goose hung high,
an alcoholic in his cups,
boiled as an owl...
but the words made sense
for they spoke the language,
shared the culture,
knew each other.
We walk in the rooms,
know nobody there,
but share the same stories,
have lived them,
secretly, thinking none knew.
But they did, they do,
and they've answers.
And because we speak
the same thoughts,
we know we're home,
and there's hope.