Mary Lessen

Dead Dreams

Huddled in a dark corner,
wishing the walls around me
were my mother's arms.
Clutching my knees,
rocking back and forth,
pretending my father
is cradling me
in the old rocking chair.
Why was my childhood
so happy and secure?
That makes life
such a disappointment
as a distraught adult.

I want you to hold me in your arms.
I want you to rock me on your lap.
I want to be happy
and secure again.
But, you ignore
my tears
and fail to see me
hiding in this corner.
Your drunken stupor
doesn't give your eyes to see
my pain.
Dead dreams
surround me with hopeless arms.

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