This Little Boy


Waking up softly to morning,
No cares to worry, no nightmares today,
Blue pajama's wrinkled from turning
Under his down comforter all night,

Eyes of soft brown, (oh so sleepy)
Flutter slowly under the sheet
And arms snuggled to his pillow,
Unlock their tight nightly embrace.

This child of six, cried not last eve,
For the quietness of the tiny house
Remained throughout the entire night,
No-one to hurt his little body and mind.

Would this be another day,
Where he would hide and pray?
When would he know his fate
When the darkness turned late?

His mind racing with notions
As the morning turned into a day,
Warm and windy, and he laughed
When the dog he loved would play.

Sweet clover and gentl clouds
Wave in this summer breeze,
As he plays alone underneath
Giant trees and the brilliant sun.

Food is on the table! Suppertime,
Where all will gather to eat in silence.
Eyes darting at father and his glass,
Filled with the evening's cocktail.

Night removes the remains of light,
And the sand-man sprinkles glitter
Across the universe to light the stars,
And put this child into deep dreams.

Dreams of grandmother's hair,
Gray with life, and soft like the silk
Played out in the corn rows
Behind this boys small house.

Dreams of rabbits in the field,
And wiggling worms after the rain.
Dreams of mom when she used to smile,
When simple fun was so easy to find.

Jerked violently from his bed,
Rampaging father drunk again
On a mission to prove some point
This tiny boy slammed to the floor.

In the darkness, his body is bruised,
His mind so awfully confused.
His heart shattered once again,
As this reality terrifies his soul.

Steely eyes stare in rage at this man,
His father, his monster, his inner pain,
As 'it' staggers away, in the screams
Of his mother who cries and weeps,

As once again the sand-man wakes,
To shelter him deep under the covers,
And let this child sob to sleep,
Once again his dreams hear him weep.

I am the boy who lived this hell,
And had this memory to share and tell,
My father is dead and gone now,
I shed no tears at his wake,

I felt pity and such an emptiness,
As his stilled body heaved no more,
I touched his chest, and said goodbye,
No tears or pain, just the question,

"Why?"

This is my relationship as it was with my father, through the day he was buried almost three years ago. I can sum up my feelings about his life in three words:

"Such a shame."




Poetry by Morpheus
Read 576 times
Written on 2006-12-26 at 14:15

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liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
You have taken me into a private and sad
section of your world.

Thank you for sharing such a difficult write.
I am sorry for what you when through as a
little boy, but the way you've structured this poem
with the reader not knowing until the end that the little
boy is you is mind-blowingly amazing.

You have so much strength and wisdom
beyond your years and poetry like this shows
what a wonderful person you are as in most poems
like this, the anger rules the theme.
Here I can feel your anger, but it doesn't overrule
the whole poem thus bringing more respect to
not only the poem but to the poet behind the poem.

liz
2006-12-29