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Archive for the ‘images from my childhood: father beating mother’ Category

 
 

Courtesy of tatoodonkey.com

I recalled this memory.
I was five or six
it was the middle of morning
when I hear my Mother moaning
in the lowest of voices
as to not wake my Brother or me.
“Please John, don’t hit me again.”
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Please….Please, you are hurting me.”
 
It has been sixty-five years
since that memory.
Still every once in a while
that memory returns
to haunt my very soul.
My Father came in late that night.
He had been drinking.

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Courtesy of tatoodonkey.com

I recalled this memory.
I was five or six
it was the middle of morning
when I hear my Mother moaning
in the lowest of voices
as to not wake my Brother or me.
“Please John, don’t hit me again.”
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Please….Please, you are hurting me.”
 
It has been sixty-five years
since that memory.
Still every once in a while
that memory returns
to haunt my very soul.
My Father came in late that night.
He had been drinking.

Read Full Post »