Walking Thru Shards Of Glass

By merebrockett

Fri, 27 Jun 2014
  • 740 reads
3 comments
 

 

 

Father's blood

Dripping on me

As he dropped to his knees

 

Blows came

Pain and more pain

Mother insane

 

Life of torment and pain

Adulthood revealed

Yes it had been too real

 

But now I have a choice

No more blows and pain

Filled with hope and grace

 

 

 

 

Certificate 18
Poem
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by merebrockett on

This poem is autobiographical about one of my first memories as a child of about 3.

Submitted by scratch on

Awful first memory.  So sorry.

 

Submitted by merebrockett on

Thank you, but it helps to write about it.