Family Meetings Beatings


Faded are my memories,
Casual and free.
Wistful rememberence,
Images of glee.

Lovely young innocence,
A long gone youth.
No harbored resentments,
A lie, or a truth?

Silly woman, you're lying,
It wasn't like that.
Hitting and screaming,
Your lip always fat.

Bruises and Black eyes,
Their punches never missed.
Shaking and hiding,
Running from fists.

Hand guns and hammers,
The weapons of choice.
Starring down the barrel,
Silencing your voice.

Crude words, so abusive,
Never hearing your name.
Justice, Elusive..
Every moment, the same.

Four A.M. came early,
The whippings began.
"Your room isn't clean!"
A blow, if I ran...

MY CHILDREN, are precious,
Not worthy of beating.
Would NEVER hit them,
An example, I'm leading.

Perhaps memories are mine,
To do with, as I may.
Remembering happiness,
Forgetting the pain.

It may be denial,
So be it, I say.
They're mine to imagine,
MY memories to claim.