Dinner on the Table...

Dinner on the table,

Yelling in the hall.

They fight so many times; it's not unique.

I try to block it out;

Pretend it isn't happ'ning,

But all the time I'm quaking in my chair.

Why they fight,

I cannot say -

Their angry words have faded over time.

Louder, louder, louder,

they scream and rage and roar,

Until a monstrous bang shakes the whole house.

I jolt and shriek,

I clap my ears;

"How dare you punch holes in my wall?!"

I look up with fright,

Face wet with tears,

I watch her grab a broom near the back door.

My mother's rage,

My father's pain,

Both ring across the house with every smack.

Fearing the worst,

I bolt and wail,

Running, Running, Running:

The next I know,

I'm in a ball,

Sobbing in my oldest sister's closet.

My sisters find me one by one,

sharing in my fear.

We hug,

We cry,

We hold ourselves together.

The mem'ry's vague,

I can't recall

What really happened next.

Vaguely, Vaguely

I do recall

My father op'ning up that closet door.

He takes us in his arms;

Insisting that he loves us.

My mother isn't very far behind.

They soon made up;

Their love is strong,

Vowing ne'er to fight like that again.

They tried their best

To get along,

Although they bicker still from time to time.

I was so young,

By and by

Each year the details fade a little more.

Still...

I can't forget the fear I felt,

The day I thought my mom had killed my dad.