The way of living…

Belt in hand
Red of face
Eyes bulging into space
The children scatter every place

His temper is in full bloom
They know they will pay for it soon
Tiny hands and tear stained faces
They silently pray from their hiding places

“Someone, anyone, please come and protect them” they plead
“For if not soon they will bleed”
The father rises and calls to each one
And so it has begun

Tentatively each steps forward
Knowing their fate
With a sadistic gleam in his eye
The belt finds it’s mark

On soft skin, it leaves it’s stark welts
Tears flowing fast
Live rivers in spring
The terrified kids can do nothing

On and on he punishes them
Until they lay like broken toys
They lie so still
But he continues to enforce his will

There is no help
No reprieve
And worst of all
This isn’t the end
It will happen tomorrow again!

This is how some grew up
This is what we felt
Always scared of the the striking belt!

This poem makes me...
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