Battlefields are drawn within kitchen walls,
And bedroom draws have become ring side bells.
Mom’s heart is no longer melted
By roses being red and violets being blue,
For it is now heavy with the fears of his presence.
He walks in intoxicated by anger
Because the badge on his chest
Won’t allow him to lift a glass.
Daddy spits venom in he’s speech,
Completely arrogant he remains ignorant
To the pretentious smile gracing mommy’s face.
Best we duck,
Lest we be caught in the cross fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem