Growing old

Growing old 

I would always look at the fairy tales,

The idea that family can live that long,

To grow old and have your bones crumble slowly,

Didn't actually seem as a bad thing,

Life seemed good,

Mom and Dad love each other,

Mom and Dad always care,

They never let us worry about anything,

Yet as I was growing old,

One the daily basis I started listening, 

Hearing the shouts of my mother,

The voice of my father,

I say no more,

No more,

Yet I look up at the sky,

Still hearing those voices,

He's never touched her,

But his words hurt,

The mistreats the yelling,

Let it all stop,

Is this what they mean by growing old with the person you love,

To grow old and see the love go away,

They weren't always like this,

No once or twice I saw them smile,

It was all love back in my childhood days,

But bills, bills, bills,

Work soon became my fathers salvation,

Everything my mother did was wrong,

She didn't bring in money into the house,

But god damn she worked her heart off,

To clean, feed and help us,

To work the money system in our soon to be broken home,

To make sure there was always food on our table,

Water to shower,

Everything that was needed,

And yet he calls her lazy, floha,

Whinny, 

Just because she has asked him to make himself his own lunch,

Just for asking him if he could help her with the garden work,

To grow old used to be a fairy tale,

Now to grow old is just my biggest fear.