by Catherine Henry

Created on: May 28, 2009

Bad Daddy

I remember being young and weak
we heard daddy coming up the street.
We could tell he had been drinking
as he did so many times.

We all huddled in the quiet of the room
maybe if no sound was heard
he would quickly leave the room.
Instead we heard him holler and suddenly a boom!

His screaming lungs were wailing
what was he angry at
something he said was missing
he would kill the little rat.

We scurried to the upstairs
we hid under the bed
we whimpered softly clutching each other
we protected and shielded one another.

We could hear his footsteps thumping up the stairs
screaming he would get one of us, which one he did not care.
It wasn't about being brave or even being scarred.
We were being taught that this was all that we deserved.

Learn more about this author, Catherine Henry.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.