Applauded the jokes,
Then stabbed the jester.
Hushed our laughter,
The games were all over.
Manic man in our home;
Reeked of gin- our father.
He then made that B-line
Straight for our mother.
Hands tight on her neck;
It was blood he was after.
Her face turning blue.
My skin growing hotter.
Not one second to spare,
Sister's eyes welled with water.
I sprinted out to the truck and
Grabbed the old mans revolver.
Calmly walked back inside, and
Painted the walls with our father.
Momma cold on the ground…
We couldn’t wake her from slumber.
I swore at god all damn night
For not making me stronger.
They gave me five years in a ward,
And my poor sister to foster.