November

November comes like Dad with candy. You'd be
Wise to stay on guard. The bastard smiles
At first and laughs. He's manic. Then he gets
Depressed, and drunk and mean, and kicks
Your ass. Your fingers freeze. Your face gets
Raw. The bag of candy's long since gone
As Dad drags you into the basement, climbs
The stairs, turns off the light, to leave you terrorized,
Immobile, in December's arms.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 118 times
Written on 2019-11-18 at 23:50

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