All because of you
I cannot wear white T-shirts
Or play Hey Jude
And other songs of '68
Around a busy house
In part for what you did
I cannot make love
To my wife, can't break through
The wall of anti-depressants
She has raised up to protect
Against your memory's assault
Thanks to your abuse
There are shadows hidden
In every moment of light
And unexploded ordnance, seeded in the soil
That should be the bed of love
You were God-fearing
You made her fear you like a god
Hiding in the congregation
Where you are buried now, I'm sure
It's you who are afraid
All we really need
Is for Time to back right up
To return to a beginning
Where you never adopted her
Nor could pose as any father
To agents of child welfare
Time for a brand new start
Where those long years of abuse
Have been strangled, all along with you
At the moment of birth
But for now it's clear
There'll be no reconciling
While this river runs its polluted course
Until another generation
Has reached another shore.
God this is so heart-renching to read, yet compelling too. My fav Beatles song is Hey Jude and not to be able to wear white t-shirts, well of course that's the top level stuff, the rest, the lack of intimacy, the fact that you have a 'damaged soul' to live with and understand must be doubly hard. I hope your wife realises what a kind man you are and how you can be sensitive to her problems that were caused by someone who should have known better. Abuse of any kind must be abhorred and I cannot begin to imagine what she went through. My blessings are with her. HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your poem. Pain can be beautiful. I feel your wife's pain not only as I experienced it, but I experienced your pain too. It almost seems to be a cycle in my family. Your poem says everything right.