there was a time


I looked a 15 year old Boy

in the Eyes, and told him,

“Everything will be alright”

Knowing, the Entire time, his Father



with a Whiskey Bottle

and a mind littered with bitter memories


Broken dreams, and


And this Boy


Knowing, the Entire Time,

He is going to Kill Someone


Some Lonely street

When the Whiskey and Bruises

are no Longer


To keep his mind



We shake hands, and



Like Bastard Martyrs

Dying for the Sins of Others

And maybe this boy will say,

what a Good Man



That I tried

Even though



The Dead cannot be


From the



~ by fairlane on April 21, 2008.

8 Responses to “there was a time”

  1. The Dead cannot be


    From the



    No, they cannot. And, on top of that, a child’s innocent wish for that NOT to be so and the wounds resulting from that realization rarely, if ever, heal, even when the adult, rational brain finally kicks in. One can only hope that the child ultimately understands that whatever the father did is not his fault.

  2. //Yesterday-

    I looked a 15 year old Boy

    in the Eyes//

    ah, shit. I feel pain. You OK?

  3. I’m the old lady result of another kind of passing the cruelty and drunken bad behavior on to the next, and the next generations without end. So, here I sit childless. At some point I learned that I could be safe only if alone. Safety might be over rated unless your parents were bad enough, and everyone knew, and no one did more than look me in the eyes and say, “Everything will be alright.”

  4. My dad was a bad ass. He said “do as I say not as i do”
    then he quit drinkin

  5. he saved lives

  6. Man…this poem is so out there. I’m sure it was as painful to write as it was for me to read. I reads like a flurry of punches to the head — you really don’t know what hit you until the adrenaline wears off and you feel the hurt on your face and taste the blood on your lips.

  7. Good work.

  8. You’re on a roll, old man.

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