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.
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