Moving On

The quiet pitter-patter of rain on the roof,
Is the sound that consumes the night.
Black and white images flash through my head,
Telling me the wretched tale of life.
…………………………………….
The first image is one of a mom and dad,
Yelling and screaming cruel words at one another,
Then the father strikes out at the mom,
While the little girl watches helplessly from the hallway.
……………………………………
The second image is one of the father,
Sitting in his recliner,
Having drink after drink till he becomes so intoxicated,
He passes out on the floor.
……………………………………
One after another the images go,
With each one the tears just keep welling up,
Threatening to spill over these weary eyes,
That have seen too much in their fifteen years.
……………………………………
Here I sit wondering why fate could have been so cruel,
As to have someone grow up in a life like that.
But life has moved on and so have I,
Because this little girl is all grown-up.