Hope

Repugnant thoughts in my mind’s dark eye,
Subconscious memories that never die,
Lurking beneath the swamp of the Old,
Nightmarish stories never to be told.

Flashes of childhood, friends and foes,
Confrontations with bullies,
The teacher knows.
No point in parents, they can’t ease the pain,
Week after week, a constant drain.

Who cares about being nice?
It doesn’t do any good.
Don’t try to help me,
Don’t tell me I should.

If it happened to you,
Do you think you could cope?
Try to handle the problem,
Or just smoke dope?

Family issues,
Can’t seem to get away,
From the woman who once cared for me,
Day after day.

Is it really my mother?
Or some alienated being,
What is this creature before me,
I can’t avoid seeing?

Hospital visits,
The doctor says, “Hope”
A luxury I can’t afford,
I’d rather have a rope.

It stretches on, seemingly forever,
No doubt in my mind,
The worst problem ever.
Like Jekyll and Hyde she always changes,
From frying pan to fire,
Not knowing the dangers.

“It’s Manic Depression”, the doctor exclaims,
“She may never recover, I’m sorry to say.”
The bomb has been dropped, and it paves the way,
For more destruction, come what may.

Remembering what she used to scream,
I toss and turn; unaware it’s a dream.
“You’re not my son! You’d put me away!”
“But I am your son, what else can I say?”

At last salvation has deemed to arrive,
The fight for survival’s an elemental drive.
According to experts a “miracle drug”,
As a last resort a grave I dug.

They say it never fails,
That it alters the state,
What it all comes down to,
Is decision of fate.

Like caterpillar to butterfly
She emphatically changed,
No longer caged up,
No longer deranged.

With tears of joy and true emotion,
I learn the meaning of real devotion.
And as she holds out her arms to give me a hug,
I remember the grave I foolishly dug.

Unpleasant thoughts in my minds bright eye,
Irrevocable memories that I no longer mind,
Allow them to surface every now and then,
Why not? One way or another it happens to all men.

For now I have a weapon for beating them back,
A luxury in the past I have always lacked.
Why substitute freedom for a swinging rope?
I have one thing to live for,
I have Hope.

I wrote this poem previous to the poem "Honestly" which I submitted last week. I wasn't sure whether or not to submit this one because it was very personal. It is based on true events in my life. Please comment if you can, I'd like to know if people find it meaningful.