Dad by Amanda R. Savoie

Beer is but the fuel to the flames of his rage,
His life is like a badly written book,
With hurtful words on every page.
His temper is frightening,
When I'm near him I feel like a small child,
All alone in a storm of lightening.
He says I shouldn't feel these feelings I've been writing,
Yet he causes those feelings I'm fighting.
His life is divided into two,
His true self a drunken fool,
And then there's his fake life of perfection,
The one he has provided for all of you.
He's jealous of a mother's love for her children in need,
He cares not about the one child who every night chooses to bleed.
This man causes me many tears and keeps me forever sad,
This man is the man I call dad.