Poems: Life is Life.

Peaceful Rage

I hear him yelling,
While she is screaming,
Stomping footsteps can be heard with the idea of chasing,
He thinks he's fighting a good fight,
But she's fighting the war;

Despite the cries of the baby,
Mommy's trying,
Drunken rage with a bottle of Whistler,
And he loves it more than he loves any of us;

He's a fighter and she's the peace keeper,
Unlike any other night she seems to slam the door harder,
Than the times his heart grows colder,
He thinks he's done fighting the good fight,
But she's still fighting the war;

I'll bet you never seen the smile of freedom,
Though she's still sad because she'll miss them,
Blue and red pills cover the floor,
Hope for the kids because they're not sure,
If they want to bury the one they loved;

Despite the cries of the baby,
Mommy's trying,
Drunken rage with a bottle of Whistler,
And he loves it more than he loves any of us;