Behind Closed Doors

The rumbling thunder shook the house,
the strikes of lightning lit the sky,
and the rain clanged against the windows.

Drops of water fell from the ceiling,
buckets blocked the hall,
and water filled the garage.

My father always hit a rage, for he was
reminded that he failed to care for the home,
as he had to love and care for his family.

The roof was beaten and battered
like the heart of the mother
from all that happened, behind closed doors.

The floors were falling apart and faded
like the spirits of the children
from all they heard go on, behind closed doors.

The eye of the storm left us in fear,
like the rage of the father
who abused us, behind closed doors.

Our home was broken and damaged,
a mirror image of the family
who suffered behind those closed doors.