TO MY LONG DEAD MOTHER (again)

TO MY LONG DEAD MOTHER (again)

A Poem by Phil Roberts

How dark and long the night
Growing up in the care
Of you, my mother
Unstable and violent
With fists as fast as your hair-trigger temper
I was very young when I learned to take a punch
And fly across a room with the best of them

But you taught me to read before I started school
And you read Dickens to me for hours
Igniting my love of words and stories
But even then
The storm could crash at any time
"What a quiet, well-behaved little boy.
Isn't he shy?"

But the worst thing you ever did to me
You told a lie as big as the moon
You said that my real father, the gypsy
Was dead
When I met him, in my teens
The world lurched slightly
And never went back to normal
And the worst thing is
I was still too scared to call you a liar

         By Phil Roberts

© 2016 Phil Roberts


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Added on February 20, 2016
Last Updated on February 20, 2016

Author

Phil Roberts
Phil Roberts

macclesfield, north-west, United Kingdom



About
I'm from the north-west of England where the rain lives. I am retired and a grandfather to many. I've led an "interesting" life, i suppose you could say, with lots of laughter and a few tears, like mo.. more..

Writing