My Dad

My dad stood in front of mum

When she would blow a fuse

She perpetrated violence

Which one could not excuse


Back in those early years

Before my parents broke up

He protected us regularly

After mum had, had a sup


She broke a statue on his back

Then phoned the guards for him

Making an allegation which

The guards thought was a sin


Mum went out with our sister

And scratched her own face on a wall

She told the guards he done it

In that vindictive phone call


My poor dad he got tortured

He took the digs for us

As quiet and gentle as a mouse

And never caused a fuss


After she got him barred

And kept us from our dad

When I reached the age to leave

I moved in with my lad


He only lived a few more years

We’d missed so much together

Those are the things you can’t get back

And time won’t make it better


His life was taken one dreadful night

It literally tore me apart

He had always suffered

An orphan from the start


John Hayden 14th November 2008