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the room is dark
The room is dark
The air is still
Here comes my father
Looking for a kill
I hear his footsteps
Slam on each step
My fears are growing
I start to wet the bed
The bedroom door
Flies open and slams
Against the wall
My fathers figure
Stands there shouting
His words I don't
Understand
My clothes are wet
With urine as my father
Walks towards me
I try to cover my body
With my arms
And hands
But there is not
Enough of them
He stands above me
Slurring and spitting
His words
I see an arm raise
In the darkness
And make myself
As small as I can
Words escape my lips
as I beg and plead
For mercy
But my words are not heard
I feel his hand
Come down onto my head
It sends me flying
Half way across
My room
I hit the opporsite wall
And fall to the floor
Like a bag of dirt
I lay on the floor
Unable to speak
Because of the pain
I feel
There is more to
Come as I lay
Helpless and limp
As his arm raises
And hits me
Again and again and AGAIN
My father turns away
Walks out of the room
As he pulls the door
Behind him
I can't move
There is too much pain
Inside my mind
I don't want to see
Him again
I try to pick myself up
Off the floor
And back onto the bed
It takes and eternity
But now I'm begging
To be dead
The bedroom door opens
And my father is
Standing there
Is this the time
He beats me to death
Or shows he
Does care
He walks towards me
And holds out his arms
As if to give me
A loving hug
I crawl away from him
As fast as I can
And squeeze myself
Into the smallest ball
I can
He starts to cry
I can feel his pain
But if I go to him
Will he hit me again
Again and again
He leans towards me
I push myself further
Back to the wall
I can't go any further
But it doesn't
Stop me from trying
He picks me up
And hold me in his arms
He tells me he loves me
And slowly fall for his charms
Everything is ok now
He told me it wont
Ever happen again
My dad has gone
The pub to relax
And play a game
The room is dark
The air is still
Here comes my father
Looking
For his
KILL
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| poetically sad yet so finely in tune with reality that this piece makes me so sad to look back on my own past. |
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| ...I don't know what to say! You are an incredible storyteller! I was literally on the edge of my seat! You told this story so vividly, I saw every action you described. Thank you for sharing something of this level. I'm glad I read this so I can raise my level of effectivness and storytelling ability. Truly thank you sir! |
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| This is amazingly honest, powerful stuff, that makes my stomach knotted. If I could go into that room and rescue that child... If you went through this, there's really nothing to say, is there? But - I'm sorry the adults let you/the child in your piece down so very, very badly. I held my breath from start to finish - as I said before, amazing, powerful stuff. |
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Comment by: - 2006-10-04 15:33
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Shocking. Sad. Devistating. Overwelming. So much emotion and anger builds up in you while you are reading this and there is nothing you can do, like the person in the poem - nothing he can do.
very sad. |
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I'm sorry. I know people who have gone through that. It makes me sick, really. But this poem is really well done and conveys every meaning and emotion that it's meant to Very Well.
"My fathers figure"
There should be an apostrophe before the "s" in "fathers."
"Or shows he
Does care"
I would change this to "Or shows he cares," because the last two words there come together very awkwardly.
"My dad has gone
The pub to relax
And play a game"
Should be, "To the pub."
Good work. Very powerful. Thank you for sharing. |
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