by Betmae

To my brother dear
There is no turning back now, I fear

Sometimes I see a sweet innocent boy
Pulled me in the wagon
Let me play with his toys

All those years living in a trailer, finally had a home
Then dad stole us from mom and all that progress gone
Lived up by the country top
Drove for days to the southern end before we stopped

Our refuge playing in the desert wild
Caught horny toads, painted them up, colors in style
Let go try to catch again the next day 
Always a big delight if success, hooray 

When you were rough and loud dad threw a fit
Rage, belt, beating, punch, hit

You were still punished if I was bad, not kind
Should have set an example, fine
Even then I knew it wasn’t fair
I tried to be good for your sake, I swear

So you would pinch and hit me then cover my mouth and nose
Suffocating me so I couldn’t shout out
Pinned me down called it a tickling game.  Holding back tears, I tried
Digging your fingers in deep until I cried

When it was calm dad criticized and picked and such
Said you weren’t smart, wouldn’t amount to much

You grew ill-tempered in your teens
Loud grating music, fire setting, threats, making a scene

Still trying to forget your unspeakable assault
I blamed on dad not you
This toxic family stew
His fault

You proved dad wrong about his only son
College degree, business, house, and you are not done

But now decades on
You hate the world, racist rants and anger won’t subside
I’m so tired dear brother
And can no longer stand by your side