Life's Lessons
A tearful child,
from another broken home,
I can forget my
past, but only some:
The vicious fights
and argument matches;
the holey roof
without any patches;
the drinking and
the bottle smashing;
destruction always
crashing, crashing.
The constant stream
of men: in and out.
How to survive
when I can not shout?
When all I can do
is sit silently?
When all I say must
be said politely?
These pasts I can
not forget,
But I can
make a bet…
I bet there
will be another one,
just like me.
No love, much pain, no fun.
I point it out to her:
who’s quick to fight,
quick to anger, but
slow to make it right.
Not much later,
another is there,
and all I can do is smile,
and teach him: to grin and bear.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.