He watched as if from distance asleep amidst his dreams
He couldn’t quite forget it, yet identify the screams
Had he really seen this hell, or felt it on his flesh
Or was this horror of someone else, he could not really tell

Born to a quiet timid man or so they’d understand
One of many brothers, too small to make own demands
His father eeked a living en-shoring up for Miners drawing coal
Slaving till the rock fell in and carried off his soul

His own best friend was one brother through and through
Who planned such aspirant schemes that together they would do
And then came the first World War which carried him away
Leaving him a loner, living death, silently underway

Belittled by other brothers, a lost and lonely man
He sought solace in a woman whose submission made him feel
Like the King of his own castle, powerfully surreal
And then his children came along, normalcy to rule

He knew he couldn’t cut it unless he ruled with fear
So followed emotional abuse, addressed with Dear
A face of love he’d never known, compassion was obscene
His children were controlled, his wife never a Queen

For normal naughtiness and pranks, his children met the rod
But worse was the love he never gave, all in the name of God
No tag then for trauma of this sheer abuse
Verbal and emotional reduced to mere fleshly bruise

More was done in God’s name, more hurt, rejection, no care
Went to War and back again, saw things too hard to bear
Turned from the Author of True Love, father only in name
Our heavenly Father would sadly take the blame

It was a bitter pill to swallow, truth was in all of spite
Post-war in the tobacco factory, father never saw the light
He never really knew the living God, the one who could make him whole
Nor the true Brother, Son of God, who could save his soul

And so years later, he passed away, leaving family in stark relief
Followed soon by a believing woman, his religiously faithful wife
His children had outlived him, survivors, vicitims of the odds
Small wonder they had fallen to serve and call on other Gods

For the father they had known so inadequately portrayed
In the name of God the Father had made everyone afraid
Not once had he really understood the meaning of God’s grace
But father, son and son of him, all badly needed His embrace



He watched as if from distance asleep amidst his dreams
He couldn’t quite forget it, yet identify the screams
Had he really seen this hell, or felt it on his flesh
Or was this horror of someone else, he could not really tell

It was almost over now, another son would make his way
Across the great divide, between heaven and hell to pay
A time for real reflection to sort truth from lies, faith from fear
To find God’s love can’t be denied, for Father’s name is Dear


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