Bitter

Bitter

He speaks again of his childhood.
The stories I’ve heard so often
come pouring forth like vinegar
from a bottle, his words sour,
briny memories… bitter.

Resentful towards his father,
an indignant recounting of
pain and punishment,
unjust demands on his time,
unpalatable thoughts… bitter.

Remorse that he left his mother
behind to live and cope with
what he could no longer bear.
Dreaming now of the great farmer
he could have been… bitter.

Hatred, simmering, growing,
boiling over year after year
within his mind and heart,
hatred for the abusive father
who controls him still… bitter.