Jerry’s Dead.

To return home
Bringing it all
Behind him
The fucking anger
And beers breath
Slamming doors
Leather holsters
Creaking moans
Mother screams
What about the kids

I just bury my face
In the pillow
And wish it away
I feal the fear
I hope I dont cry
To dissapoint him
Please God,
Make him stop.

The stinging slap
Of creaking leather
Or maybe a hug
She never knows
Who is coming home
A loving husband
Or Mr hyde
Again she cries
What about the kids?

The moster died,
Eventually killed,
By a blood cancer,
That was the answer,
To mothers question...

And our prayers.