The Patriarch

Why is it always a war zone
Whenever we’re in the same room?
The words you hurl
Cut like a knife
Jagged edges
Rip through me and wound

Lacerations so deep
I’ll never recover
They tear in to my very soul
Thought at least
You’d mellow with age
But the venom’s still there now you’re old

I run away
In pieces again
Torn apart by the things you’ve said
It shatters my heart
Every single time
As the onslaught resounds in my head

And Christmas is always
The worst time of all
Seems you store it all up for that
A pressure cooker of bitterness
Then you blow and go on the attack

Annihilating everyone
You somehow claim to love
Gunning them down with vitriol
Remorselessly spilling their blood

And then you wonder
Why you’re alone
Save for one you’ve managed to shackle
A hostage no less
In a prison of fear
Subjugated, down-trodden
From the battle

A life sentence it seems
For all concerned
Blurred lines t’ween the present and past
Unforgiving eternally
Seems you’ll rage ‘til you breathe your last

And what of this ‘child’
You claim to cherish
Who you repeatedly drive from her ‘home’?
Disconnecting her from her family
So that she has to suffer and roam?

I will never understand you
And will always lament
That you were given to me
Try as I might
A silver lining to find
Thus far it’s impossible to see

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