Got to keep the door locked
when the drunken beast knocks
Hiding in his room,
the son,
The last to leave,
And the first to receive
The anger of his mother
He’ll never be his brother
He’ll never have the looks,
Or the friends
He just wants it to end
The door pounds
Slurred insults shake the ground
The burden of his mom
Sits with him like a bomb
He writes a letter
A final cry for it to get better
They send him away,
Wondering what made him this way
But to this day
He’ll never forget
The nights he slept in sweat
Always remembering to lock his door