I was witness to a crime.

A crime perpetrated by a Mother

Upon her children

In the name of justice. 

            Feelings… 

She couldn’t deal with

She tossed aside

Like laundry thrown in hampers

Used, dreary, dingy…

Dumped them instead

On her children

So they could bleed for her.  

There’s no strength

In [...]]]>             Once…

I was witness to a crime.

A crime perpetrated by a Mother

Upon her children

In the name of justice. 

            Feelings… 

She couldn’t deal with

She tossed aside

Like laundry thrown in hampers

Used, dreary, dingy…

Dumped them instead

On her children

So they could bleed for her.  

There’s no strength

In staying a victim

In collapsing on your children’s souls

Without their permission.

            Abuse…

Like verbal rocks

Through picture windows

Of yellow painted houses with white picket fences. 

By Mothers who abdicate

Responsibility for parenthood

Watching beatings,

Pretending they don’t see.

It takes no courage…

To use sons and daughters

Like packages opened at Christmas

            With price tags still on.

It takes no courage…

To demean, to subjugate

To lie to make yourself a hero.

Cowards manipulate and control.

Cowards destroy their children’s self-esteem

Because they have none themselves.

            And to think…  

One can not drive a car without a license

                                     or a test.

            Though…

A Mother can trash her childrens’ souls

            Daily… 

And never even get a ticket.

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd

from What If… only one child remained? (Amazon.com)

          stares out a window

Waiting…

          for Dad to come home.

It doesn’t matter what kind of work he does

          (though a fireman or race car driver would be great).

It doesn’t matter how much money he makes

          (though getting a new bike is better than not).

Benny, Sara, Nusha

Part protector, all black marketeer

Observant, deceptive, courageous

And in this life, he might have been

A CIA agent, a CEO, or Sean Connery

In Gold Finger

But it was then, and that was that

Choices none, so…

He wooed them – Nusha and Raia

With potatoes [...]]]> He was part pirate

Benny, Sara, Nusha

Part protector, all black marketeer

Observant, deceptive, courageous

And in this life, he might have been

A CIA agent, a CEO, or Sean Connery

In Gold Finger

But it was then, and that was that

Choices none, so…

He wooed them – Nusha and Raia

With potatoes and chocolates

Because he could not find food

For trade or barter

Though he had gold with precious stones

For sale…

Taken off the bodies of dead Russian soldiers.

Along with silk blouses,

There were wool jackets to keep them warm.

For when there is nothing to eat or drink

Water caught from steam engines in cupped hands

Can quench a thirst, and

Even onion peals can keep you alive

For another day…

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd

Just like she dictated everyday,

And at forty-seven

He looks eighty.

He tries to care

To get by

Like the rest of us

But schizophrenia gets in his way.

Leftover from a childhood

He sometimes puts aside.

Sometimes…

            But hardly ever forgets.

And I remember standing

In the corner [...]]]> He is sick now

Just like she dictated everyday,

And at forty-seven

He looks eighty.

He tries to care

To get by

Like the rest of us

But schizophrenia gets in his way.

Leftover from a childhood

He sometimes puts aside.

Sometimes…

            But hardly ever forgets.

And I remember standing

In the corner of

A whisper green living room

At midnight

Scared to death.

His older sister

Only twelve myself

Couldn’t save him

            (Only seven)

While Mother sent him to jail.

For running away… 

            Because Father

Following her daily harangues

Beat him to punish her.

In our house punishment came in threes:

Instigated by our Mother

Carried out by our Father

Forcibly held inside the rest of our lives

            by us,

                   ourselves. 

I never understood Hitler

Until I learned the hatred

Worshipped by my Parents

In the name of God.

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd 

 from What If… only one child remained? (Amazon.com)