Crash

The only sound I hear in a  house brought dead silent from the screams of pain we all hear on the inside.

Let the Crash repesent the bottle my Father held at all times, day and night.

The bottle that was worth more than the child`s life.

I don`t relish the day we left the man, but I often ask my self if he would change that day, if given the chance.

Then I realize, I still talk to the man, he never changed nor will he ever.

I wish I could say that I love the man for who he is despite the problem.

But I can`t, not when a man chooses an inanimate object over the life of child he help bear.

 I will die with the question of how can a poison dictate a man`s life.