False sentiments
speak slur-ly
in repetitive tones
of whiskey and beer.
26yrs of cheers
to the boys,
for us no warranty
to your pledges.
Childrens hands cover
their ears when
you come home...
And that key in the latch
stabs my heart with fear
as anxiousness attacks weakness
to the road of eggshells.
I submited to your
attitude of...
"Pick me up you bastard"
for the laughter of my
children only!
But my promise to you
i'll never break
when I tell you
that I am leaving.





thanks for entering and good luck. 

12 old applause
