Grayer Grays, of Fractured Lives
The older I got my youth washed away
through the frozen waterfalls and cold rocks,
tripping on moss waiting for the next day.
Nurturing was fictional to the flocks
of starving young, instead steel chains and locks.
Famished for affection we wanted to
be scooped up in loving arms, kissed goodnight,
teased and played with, and had fun things to do.
Father worked very hard, came home then right
out at night, glad that we were out of sight.
The fights were horrendous over money;
we shook like leaves over our father's wrath.
Never any jokes, nothing was funny,
always had to cope with the aftermath.
We loved him, though we stayed out of his path.
Love is meant to be warm and breathtaking,
when nonexistent it is heartbreaking.
1/24/2018
Poetry Contest: 'A STUNNER JANUARY 2018'
Sponsored By: Line Gauthier
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2018
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