Social Poems Political Poems

the day I punched my terrible father for the first time making future beatings at his unloving hands all the more unlikely was not a good day on the stairs that descended into a dark basement victory ugly shameful unpleasant incomplete reclaiming a useless key now unable to open a stolen childhood

the only way those who can NOT manage to live in the present can manage at all is to maintain a threat towards those who can vague threats complete with negative visions of futures and consequences vague threats and a sad belief for themselves in second chances having lived for circumstance alone