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Forcing My Hand (poem)

Updated on June 18, 2013

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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