Monday, May 25, 2009

Poem: Broken


He hit you

Again and again and again

Left bruises, scars

Emptied spirit bled dry in the unanswered questions of why

Your father

Who loved you

But how is it love; the beatings?

You hit me

Again and again and again

Left wounds, marks

Hollowed spirit sucked clean from the unquestioned answers of because

My father

Who loves me

And it is how it is; the beatings

I could hit him

Again and again and again

Leave bruises, wounds and scars

Destroy another in never-ending chains without questioning

A father

Who loves him

And it is love to say enough

Copyright SGW 2009

Footnote: Nothing about this poem is personal. My dad was the furthest from this as is possible, as was his father. I wrote this as part of an exercise in relation to this poem: Prevention.

1 comment:

Kat Mortensen said...

I thought this might be stemming from your work. Glad to know that. I did know that you loved and respected your own dad.

I have an award for you at "Keepsakes", my friend.