In my father's house
There is but one frame
Black and white
My dad in a bow tie
Shoulder padded suit truly define him
A Proud annang peacock
Home was always empty
The stair ways hollow
Hunted, like something was missing
I stayed up most nights
Holding the hands of my little sister
We were always afraid to fall asleep
Always longing for our mother
You could hear her voice in the stiff air
Like she too was afraid
We never spoke about her
Her name was a taboo on our lips
Never to be heard, never to be spoken
The walls at home were discoloured
And with many cracks
Each held its own secret, its own story
Its own memory.
We always wondered why dad's frame hung so low on the wall
Little did we know,
It hides a deep dent
The last place he smashed mom's head
Her ghost forever lost behind him.
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