Daydreaming In Art #8

Bill once told him that sailors
were at sea for so long, that
they needed the company of
many women when they were
in dry land and the pub was
the place to find them.

That made Oscar angry and
resented the old man more.
He would not accept that
his own mother may have
been one of those women.

Somewhere in his mind;
subconsciously the truth
he kept, but in the present
he fed himself in a world of lies!

Oscar’s thoughts were that
he brought these women
into his world, so he could
do as he pleased, and he
was right!

Night was near again, he was
working late this time, his
battle with darkness and the
loneliness that came with it
would remind of his childhood
nights.

The fears, the laughter, the slamming
of doors, sounds of footsteps that
carried till early morning hours and
of course the tears he shed as a lad.

Not one of those nights did the old
man come in to tuck him in, to see
if he needed anything.

The name calling, he never had
anything good to say to him,
brat, baby cry, stupid boy, the
names began to play in his head,
like a broken record, he would
even tell him that he was just
like his mother, an ungrateful bitch.,
and Oscar began to cry unstoppable
tears, until he crawled into bed, hoping
that his dreams would comfort him,

that he would get a glimpse of his
lost mother, cuddling him and telling
him that everything would be alright.

Vanessa Ramos