Fears of Futures Past

I sit, tense, adrenaline rush,

and try to be

as small as possible

begging not to be noticed

He sits in constant motion

cigerette in hand

muttering imagined slights

I pray he doesn't notice me,

I try to ignore him,

waiting for the accusations to start,

pretending I don't exist,

he imagines that I did and do

many things, that I know many things

It is no use to deny,

I am guilty without trial,

silence is truth

my voice nothing but the lie

he is judge, jury and executioner

I am helpless

Bound by ties of blood

the legacy passes

father to daughter, mother to child

even in death, that slight repreive,

there is no end

I watch my child, already

in constant motion,

and I fearfuly wonder if

the accusations will start,

and who will be judge, jury

and executioner                      

Author's Notes/Comments: 

If you have ever grown up around someone who is mently ill then you may understand this a bit, if you have'nt and don't understand please email me if you wish me to explain

View dragongreeneyes's Full Portfolio
Rachelle Wiegand's picture

This is representative of fine poetry, one of your best. I didn't grow up around mental illness, but I have had my share of strains, and illness comes in many forms... Very good writing. Solid. And, what a story... Sad and frightening. I feel bad that you had to endure this, but I think in some ways, our trials are gifts, if we react to them positively. You seem to have a very good attitude about it. Forgiving and inspirational. Thank you for sharing. A most impressive piece of work.

Deborah E Russell's picture

This is a powerful statement. Encompasses so many mental illnesses including alcoholism and sexual perversion. Thanks for the candor.

Karen's picture

When we are young and ignorant to the ways of the world and our own, we simply marry what we know. The father turns into the husband and if we're not careful, if we don't wake up, the husband turns into the child. This poem captures that frightening transition.

Marty's picture

This was an interesting read. It's strength was most evident in the last lines where the question of the child someday having the same beefs against you arose, at least in my mind. If you do as decent a job as you can, your conscience can spare you if this occurs. I got the impression the orge at the beginning of the poem was a husband, Realize it could be a father, but the relationship seemed more marital. At any rate, the guy's an abuser.