Why is pain so consuming?
Why is my father always fuming?
All of his pain and  all of his hate,
Seeping into my wounds at a rapid rate;
Maybe all along this was my fate.
No escape from the tears streaming down my face,
No escape from the marks soon gone without a trace.
This pain that seems to never go away;
His sobriety that never seems to stay.
Why must he always drink?
Why must I always think?
Thinking he will stop drinking,
Maybe then he would stop screaming.
Nothing will ever change,
Yet that thought just seems so strange.