Untitled 12

I use to think, to believe, that pain was the foundation

that happiness and flowers were a fairy tale;

Words I read on a page, that made no sense

trapping me in a whirlwind of pain.

As I grew and began to see the world anew

I realized your sickness, your disease

Alcohol, a vice to others

the voice whispering in your ear.

You hurt me, your inability to see

alcohol was your mistress but what the fuck about me?

Deadened to expectations, accepting only what I could see

my lip curls now in disdain, as I realize;

A man you were not, a father you could never be

a childhood destroyed,

never once an apology.

I spit on you,

your sacred memory.

I hope you burn in hell

accompanied by the demons

who damned you in life.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Aug 1/12

Author: Jay-lyn Doerksen

A single hard working mom of a soon to be teenage son. A poet and story teller I have wanted to write since I was a child. This space is where I share stories about myself and my life and the creative poetry that stirs my soul. My hope is you will pull up a chair and a cup of coffee delving into the world that I offer and you find simple enjoyment for a few moments. Welcome to The Wonderful & Wacky World of One Single Mom

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