An extremely bright and distant child
Quite distracted while in school
His name brought up in quiet tones
Over coffee in the lounge
Daily conversation with his teacher
A subterfuge to check him for his wounds
They cannot talk to his mother
She's wearing sunglasses in the rain
A beautiful woman she is
With Rocky Marciano's nose
The father a well respected man
A contradiction on the edge
The wild look in his eyes tells you
It's best to leave it alone
Father to father, son to son
Poisonous legacy of tragic secrets
What can anybody do?
His mother is wearing sunglasses in the rain
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Yet another old one posted when I had very few followers and fewer comments. This poem is only autobiographical in the sense that there was a great deal of abuse in my childhood. There was no father in the picture to dish it out. That was my mom's job...
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Yet another old one posted when I had very few followers and fewer comments. This poem is only autobiographical in the sense that there was a great deal of abuse in my childhood. There was no father in the picture to dish it out. That was my mom's job...
.
