Retrospective Of Scott Millar

Scott Millar :-

Saddling up in the background
Ready to escape at my will
I've learned so many truths about me
Many memories I'd like to kill...

Being the youngest of three boys
In a family of six
I always felt I had to protect myself
From my Brothers stones and sticks

I turned myself into plastic
Not the brittle type, the robust
Surviving the deprevation
I've had to do what I must.

Not that my Brothers were evil or that
Nor were any of my 3 Sisters
We had an ignorant child like life
Nothing festers and nothing blisters.

I remember violently shaking my head
I shoke it all day long for years
It was born out of fear and loathing
As the arguments rang loud in my ears.

So I hid beneath the blankets
Adam was there by my side
We thought it was a safe haven
The most safest place we could hide.

Looking back I still feel the feelings
I can feel them like they just happened now
Scared to death of that squeaking floorboard
But it warned us in time somehow.

Often the door would burst open
A beam from a cigarette would glow
Silently creeping through our room
To be flicked out from our window

Eany meany miny mo...
That rythme struck us with fear
It decided who was to get beat up that night
As it landed on who ever was near.

The bed we shared was high of the ground
I remember we played games beneath it
Coats and towels thrust upon us as we slept
Cos the fire was seldomly lit...

The windows froze up on the inside
We used to stick our tongues on the glass
Keeping our fingers crossed so we didnt get caught
Dad would whip us with his belt on the ass.

Whelts and bruises kept us of school many times
From a slaying across our legs
Our screams were muffled by a pillow
My Mother ignored as she begs.

Candles burnt only downstairs for a year
The power switched of cos were poor
I hated washing myself in the kitchen sink
Friends all sent away from our door.

Its only when I became a teenager
That I realised that something was wrong
The man that raised me I now despised
Because he stunted my childhood for so long.

And Mothers had no idea what to do
They too were punched to the ground
No one to tell the truth to
No aunt or uncle around.

I know now that I was a troubled child
Now that I have children of my own
But in the middle of my childhood
My Dad was the king of the throne.

Many years later and in reflection
My scars and my wounds have all healed
But the thoughts in the back of my memory
Somehow, sometimes are revealed...

Thats why I am the man that I am
Soft and an easy target
I want to please everyone in my life
Its that that helps me forget.

But Im a real man now more than my dad
To me he represents weakness
My children all come around me still
And to me thats the ultimate success......


(Life during the 1970s)