Generations Curse; Fathers Demons Poem by Dakota Ellerton

If I could hide thing's a little easier,
maybe I wouldn't feel so wrong.
I could endlessly type about the pain staggering in my chest,
but never could I rid it.
As if stricken with an incurable illness,
I always feel useless.
It's been awhile,
since I've been in the right state of mind.
I lack such a drive to even try.
The only thing driving me now,
is the peace of mind I want to rest with.
Until then I shouldn't say much of anything,
for fear of suspicion.
I'd smile and nod just the same,
make meaningful conversation.
But as of when the sun goes down,
I can no longer hold the beast in my chest.
He's clawing at my ribcage,
begging to be released.
As the clock strikes midnight,
he'll appear to devour the soul to hold him down.
Just the same,
I'd be ready for it.