You’re mad.
You’re mad?
I’m mad.

Before
When I was younger
When you’d scream,
And yell,
And cuss,
I was Scared.

I would stand there,
Afraid,
Not saying a word,
Hiding my head,
Not letting you see me
Cry.

I’m older now
You still scream,
And yell,
And cuss,
When you’re mad.
When I “was bad”.
And not just me;
Them too.
But I still stood there,
And did nothing.

You’re mad.
YOU’RE mad?
I’m mad.



I see the terror
on their faces.
I see the tears
they try to hide.
I saw him run outside,
Sobbing,
into the freezing snow.
I saw her crouched,
Fear in her eyes,
behind the couch.

You’re mad.
YOU’RE mad?
I’m mad!

She’ll defend them.
But only sometimes.
She will side with you,
When we were wrong,
When we were bad.
But they are so Scared.

You’re mad.
YOU’RE mad?!
I’m mad!

I was Scared.
I would say nothing.
But next time
You get mad,
Things will be
Different

I won’t sit there
As they cower.
I won’t look away
In shame.
I won’t have to
Slip in his room,
Late at night,
And let him cry in my lap,
While I hold him tight.

Next time,
When you get mad,
Things WILL
Be Different.

Because I will get up.
And I will stand
In front of you.
I will hold my head up.
I will stare right back
Into your eyes.
I will fight your words.
And I WILL protect them.

You’re mad.
YOU’RE Mad?!
I’M Mad!!

Leave them alone!
They are afraid of you,
But I’m not.
Not Anymore.

~I dedicate this poem to them~