Family Portrait

So we start with my father as a boy

Barely spoke a word of English

Fell in love from a distance

He watched her working from the back fence

He learned some words

And some clever turns of phrase

From his father’s book of poets

She wasn’t taken in that instant

But grew impressed with his persistence

They met each other out by moonlight

Made love in the nearby woods

Then the folks became suspicious

When her cycle broken so young (?)【？】

They stole away without their goodbyes

Got married in a foreign town

Made their way as best as they could

Found jobs and settled down

And then time moved on

I was born in a river of blood

On sheets from the wedding day

The room was dark and the stench was thick

My father couldn’t stand the smell of it

Mama died in the night cos the nearest

Doctor couldn’t stem the blood loss

Father cried out on the back porch

My sister held me at the neighbor’s house

Oh my, there was a storm then

It was a flood of a different kind

Father’s eyes were often vacant

But his hands were rarely quiet

Sister learned to take her hits well

Both from life and the physical kind

But I was never one to lie down

Despite who picked the fight

So we designed our hells

Father turned into a drinker

A dark bastard with a wooden heart

Sister learned to be a mother

Before she’d ever played another part

And I became a little terror

I lashed out at whatever’s around

Took some time before I settled

And found a mind that was somewhat sound

And as it always does

Time rushed on

Six years later father died in the very same bedroom

Many said it was the grief that did it

I have to say it’s cos he hung himself

To be honest neither sister or myself

Ever much regret his passin’

But I admit it was a nice thing

To always know that we could feed ourselves