Father- a collection of poems

Father

The ropes creak
And the platform tilts
And we are afraid to speak
And overridden with guilt

Daddy was
Popular with the outside
But when he came home
The children would hide
And mother would definitely
Turn a blind eye

Their fate was decided
With a crack of leather
His mood as ever changing
As the vengeful weather
Yet did he not cry
At your grave
Before taking a drink
Of the lifeblood
To which he was a slave

Oh did school help
The children at all
No, oh no
They were bound to fall
They were teased
For the bruises and scars
And fire within
Never spread far

Father, father, oh father of mine
Why have your eyes
Lost the shine
What happened to the joy
Now melancholy stare
When drink is not in hand
You are never there

And thus look!
Who can help, these miserable souls
Who will save them
From the cold?
Will they make it to age of old?
One child wanders
Out from the pack
Out of house
Off the track

The cool metal does pierce his flesh
As he gives into voices in his head
Unknowing of what is really said
The moment feels so great
Yet when it is over
Only burning hate
As bloodshot eyes scavenge the ground
Searching, like worst of hell's hounds

He thinks of his childhood
As he looks over the bridge
Already having plummeted into ridge
His brothers and sisters
Are gone and away
He was older, he did stay
And he tosses his last
Needle aside
Preparing to catch a final high

The father watches from his old truck
Crying as usual, down on his luck
He loved his son
But was always drunk
He could never express
He thought he would never feel
But as he drives off the bridge
He lets God take the wheel
He knows not wether heaven
Or most likely hell
But he knows he is feeling unwell
And by the time they arrive the day is done
All are gone
United in death
Father and son