Three-Word Wednesday, prompt words: stress, juicy, figure.
Family Tradition
At odds again. Head under
pillow he listens, loud words
shouted with spiteful stress.
Through thin walls neighbors
also hear, just a juicy
tidbit to share. Proficient
hands land on his tired
figure. He stifles sobs,
but nothing’s lost—his voice
grows stronger, fists harder,
every day saving up
the lessons learned
with more to follow.
My Tiny Throes 
sheilagh lee said poor fellow. Very well written.
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Parental rows after bedtime – I remember them well. It was always better by morning, and I never once needed a child psychologist.
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And his voice will become loud enough to shout back and his hands big enough to stop the fists..great piece..Jae
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interesting title to a great body of words….
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Sheilagh, Poor fellow indeed. I'm thankful for my happy childhood.
Alt., Some of us cope better than others–happily you made it out all right!
Jae, Yes–and, God forbid, he may one day be big and strong enough to pass the tradition to his own children.
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Ms Pie, Thanks for stopping by and leaving such encouragement. Yeah, I stole the title from a Hank Williams Jr. song. Not every tradition passed down to our kids is so good, eh?
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Quite poignant. These were commonplace for me as a child, but the lessons you learn stay with you, although some seem to be reviewed and retaught! Regardless, they make you into the person you are.
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Kimberly,
Thanks for the kind visit, and I'm happy my poem resonated with you. My comment on your blog was not just a return favor–I really think you slam dunked the prompt this week. You now have another regular reader!
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How sad for the poor child! Your words convey so well.
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Shail,
Thanks! I had an enjoyable time at your blog the other day–you have a great mixture of writing there. Stop by and visit whenever you get the chance.
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intense and sad…will he grow strong enough to break tradition? or is this lesson too well in grained…did i mention sad?
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RMP,
Thanks–you've written a few intense and sad poems yourself! Child abuse, to me, is one of the worst human actions, and I hoped to portray that sadness.
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