Tuesday, February 8, 2011

A Hard Lesson To Learn

She was battered and bruised, when I came home from school
Mom stood in the doorway, eyes black
Swollen and sore, mopping blood from the floor
The result of my father's attack
When I cried and asked why
My Dad’s reply, "Your mother went crazy again"
I'd seen it before when I walked through the door
Their arguing led to mayhem
I was but four when I saw the first time
Dad put fist(or worse) to mom's face
She'd bucked him before, she would do it no more
He would keep the bitch in her place
Mom hid it quite well, makeup covered the swell
And the black and blue marks that ensued
Only a couple good friends knew to what end
Mom's feelings toward dad had accrued
Once Dad’s attack took a broom to her back
Mom decided she'd had enough
"Touch me again and I'll kill you with my own hands
I won't take any more of your stuff"
Dad understood, mom meant to make good
On her threat if he touched her again
He could see in her eyes if there was a reprise
His life could come to an end
He really never kept his hands to himself, alcohol nor anger put on a shelf
Since everyday Mom would take it, give it, then stand her ground
I cannot forget, but I have one regret
That I never uttered a sound
Of protest or rage, for the war they would wage
Left me frightened, as any child would be
I hid from it all, ran to the ditch, or face to the wall
In a closet so I would not see
The lesson was tense, at my mother's expense
But I learned quite well what would be
I vowed from the start, and I knew in my heart
This would never happen to me!!


© Dana Price

1 comment:

pvmack said...

This is great Ravin. So many go through this everyday. You put it very well. Very heart felt. Hugs.