Shadowed in nightmares
Are the days of my youth
The Medusa exploding snakes
Not my shame for heavens sake
Hiding in closets under beds
Bitter by product of sour grapes
Symbols of yet another lost youth
Lost in the footsteps of the devil
Trunk music for an early grave
For the bottle he is a slave
Live in the mist of Father's sins
Early on I will not dwell within
Held inside reality by hypnosis
The world would know the truth
Unlike my father forsake the bottle
Angels as friends Demons would throttle
Nothing could save Mom from early grave
For the inhumanity this man gave
Drop the monster being in a six foot hole
Life for this youth begins with him below
And shadowed nightmares I must let go
*A poem about spousal and child abuse
For not alone did I suffer his muse
Mom suffered the most died tender age
Her life in pain until the final page
Fifty-five relieved of pain and beatings
From this alcoholic that I do despise
Then a grown man I hunted to look in his eyes
I searched to find him and make amends
But he was in his grave as this story ends
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