People like us
had no right
to live in a place like this
but Jim, the stepdad,
was a good con man
so we signed the lease
on a four bedroom
two bath rambler
with a swimming pool out back
and a fireplace in the center
of the living room.
We had no right
to live in this place.
We never had
warm company
over to dinner,
never made the most
of Lakewood.
People like us
had been spit out
of places like Texas.
Drunkards we were,
brawlers.
Someone like me
awakened at night,
confused by pleading sounds
in the kitchen,
cries to stop,
curses and clapping noises.
Someone like me,
eleven years old,
in the bedroom closest to the kitchen
figured out what was going on
in the next room.
People like us
who live in nice homes
for the time being
think of taking knives,
ridding the world of wife beaters.
Little boys
think about killing at night.
Big brothers
stop little boys
from being so foolish.
People like us
live in houses like this,
waiting until morning
when the beating stops
for the time being.
………………………………………………..
people like us
by troy cady
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