A soft sigh escapes my lips
My fingers run around across the sheets
Of a springy bed
This home is not a home
As things are thrown
And screaming is heard through the walls
And I can feel my mother crying
And my little sister clutches onto me
Asking me why daddy's mad.
I have to be strong for her
I can't let her know that our father
Isn't all there.
"He's just tired," I tell her
And sing her a lullaby
In small hopes that when she grows,
She won't remember theses days and
That our father will be okay...