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Sun 25 Jan, 2004 09:23 am
Your not with us the teacher would say
Always on a Friday so faraway
The other days your top of the class
But Friday your always last.
You see Teacher its hard to explain
Friday's cause me to much pain
I long for a Sunday to come round again
The fear of his nature the power of his hand.
To stand to attention at his command
When he comes home at the end of the night, in the bar
The panic sets in because of a jar
When you hear that loud voice.
You would spot him in a crowd
He was my Father, never did us proud
"Where's the kids?, get them up, I'm there Dad"
"There in bed fast asleep, don't make me mad".
Music so loud in my head
Sometimes I think I wish I was dead
So Friday I wish you would go away
You make me a nervous wreck at the end of the day.
One day I might forgive you, I just can't say
My education has suffered to this day
It affected my Mothers nerves in the same way
For her I can't forgive you come what may.
So sad Friday get out of my head today
Don't come back this way.
wow, an excellent poem with great imagery and even written in a fearful childs cadence. i hope it wasnt you and this is just a gift of communication you have .
I never thought of the correlation between a child's actions and some activity day of their parent.
With our family it was different, as a child , just after the korean war I was in kindergarten and my sister was in second grade. Whenevr dad came home from camp hed have a staff car and always pick us up at school on a Monday. We were so proud to be driven around in an olive drab car with a big star.
Wed call it army day , every two weeks . We would be extra polished cause dad would do inspection of his troops (we were totally clueless about spit shines and proper dress, but somehow, to this day, i always wear a full windsor knot on ties)
Thanks famerman. It is a true account of what happened years ago, while I was growing up.
sorry man. i could say to let it go , or put it behind you asnd yet, for different reasons , but same roles, I am, to this day, afraid of clowns or people in costumes, and aint no way anyone can make it different, and Im in my early fifties.
Good luck, writing about our childhood fears often helps us sort em out. You do it well cause theres no mistaking the sound of a very frightened kid who dreads what some times can mean.
Do you have kids of your own and do you treat them protectively just because of your dad? if so, you can see that many times we can bury the evils of our past by loving our own even more.
"Living a good life is still the best revenge"-have no idea who said that but its true
I am also in my early fifities and have five grown up daughters and five granchildren. I hope I am a better Father than my own. Thanks again for your comments.
hope to see some more stuff.
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