PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Running downstairs, 
I see my mom laying on her bed,
Unable to breath from tears.
Running to get dad to help,
I see him sitting on the kitchen floor,
Pounding his head on the wall. 
Tears,
Running down my cheeks. 
My sister,
In her room,
Not knowing what to do. 

Here I stand,
Feeling the chains around my heart tighten.

'dad, come help.. Please..'
No answer or gesture.
Just more pounding and anger. 
'mom, please.. Calm down..'
No answer or gesture. 
Just tears and glazed features. 

The tissue in my hand,
Wet with sweet smelling tears. 
Grabbing the phone,
I do the first thing I can think of,
And call my aunt. 
'help me. Please.'