Forcing My Hand (poem)
Blurry and dazed, I watch from the floor
The backs of your shoes as you walk out the door
You stop and you turn as if wanting some more
I raise my hand up in front of my eye
Trails of blood streaming off, trying not to cry
Wondering if this is the day I shall die
Why do you care? Why do you even bother? Didn't care before. Care about being a father.
I lunged for the door, my fist raised in the air.
Your reaction was stoic, you didn't seem to care.
Spinning and turning, painful flashes of light
It wasn't my fault, you started this fight
Staggering through the door you came at my brother
I jumped in between amidst screams from our mother
On my big brother's weakness was where your plain laid
But I stand in between, deceivingly unafraid
He had done nothing to deserve your fury and rage
Of course, neither had I, not at that age
The taste of metal and salt heavy on my tongue
A broken rib pressing into my lung
But still I continue, maintaining the fight
For here I stand between who's wrong . . . . . . and what's right
Now broken and bleeding we lie in the yard
My face, our relationship lie forever scarred
Two decades have past since that faithful night
Never forgetting my brother's eyes filled with fright
Remembering always that you tore us apart
Thankful only that you showed me . . . . the depth of my heart
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