Sunday, April 19, 2009

PAD 19 - Angry

Note from Robert Brewer for the PAD challenge:
"Perhaps appropriately, today's prompt is to write an angry poem. That is, a poem about someone or something that gets angry. Could be a person, animal, or even them there angry clouds".

Well, I don't know what is stuck in my craw, but I've been a pro on being angry the last few days.
Think I need some new "Happy" pills, cuz the ones I'm takin now sure aren't working! My poor kids are ready to disown me. My fiance' thinks I'm insane because I'm either being sarcastic or crying.

Except when he calls me "babydoll". Then I giggle.

Cuz I love it. Alot.

Don't know if I happened to mention that tomorrow would have been my 18th wedding anniversary. Maybe that has something to do with it. Although I am happy beyond happy that I am not still married to that man...I grieve for our family. For the hopes and dreams we had. For my children's broken childhood. For the self-esteem I used to have that disappeared about the time he had his first affair.

You'd think I'd be over all this yuk by now. But tomorrow reminds me...and it hurts.


Back to the assignment at hand.

Please, God, don't let me be like that...

I don't remember ever doing anything fun with her.
Even our family trip to Disney Land and such...
I remember my dad promising to stop every night
at a hotel with a pool. I remember laughing so much.

I remember my sister and I remember my dad.
I know she was there - the pictures all say.
My baby sister stayed with our grandmother
But where was she the entire way?

I don't remember ever playing with her
we always played together, as four girls often do.
But I do recall the yelling and screaming
when she was angry, then when she was through.

I would shake my head and walk away
often not remembering what I was in trouble for.
Simply recalling the yelling and slamming
the spankings and stomping across the floor.

I'm sure we did something together...
from her I learned to sew, cook, and clean.
But why can't I remember any of the good things?
Only hurtful, sad, angry memories remain.

No comments: