A sudden burst of sound jolts me from sleep,
I am now awake and listening closely,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out,
car doors close and someone swears outside my door.
The home alarm beeps and I know mother is home,
and through muffled voices I hear her and my stepfather,
I poke my head out my door and can see her defensive stance,
she is ready to explain her late arrival,
dressed in nice clothes and her hair still groomed,
a stark contrast again her grimey boyfriend with stains down his front.
It is the same as usual,
an argument about the workload divide in this house,
mother is crying and her lover is screaming,
and neither consider the children watching.
A turn towards the stairs and I close my door,
I climb back into my bed and his words burn into my skull,
and mother’s crying as permanent as always,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out.
Always defensive and never offensive,
mother will never have control of her life.
my english class required me to write a poem based upon Kay Smith's "Family Group", basically 4 stanzas (introduction, description, actions, closing) then two lines passing judgement. it had to be about an event we witnessed but were not directly a part of.
