My Mothers Flowing Tears

My Mothers Flowing Tears Crouched up in the corner, With my hands upon my ears. My father shouting, striking out, And my mothers flowing tears. A childhood full of sorrow, With hurt that no one knew. Hiding beneath my sisters bed, As my fathers anger grew. He'd lock me in the coal-house, He'd thrash me with his belt. Sometimes he'd be full of love, With no idea how we felt. I even tried to run away, Though always back I'd come. For if he'd found out that I'd gone, He'd take it out on mum. When I reached the age of fifteen years, No more did he attack. I think he knew that if he had, I'd have hit the bastard back.