One After The Other

The good times

I look at all the photo graphs I have hung up on my walls and I see all the memories. But their not just memories, their the good times, my family before all the destruction.

When my father (which I haven't ever admitted this but who I do miss) was still at home. When he loved us and he cared. But now hes just gone and no one wants to admit it but it took a toll on my family. I find laughter in it all, in every picture not with his wife who he loved more then I may no or with his son who he watched grow up for the better half at least, did he smile. But in only one picture of me as a baby and him, he smiles brightly.

The good times, before my mother went crazy and had to be checked into a mental hospital for a month. But was always smiling and happy and enjoyed life as it was. But now is sad over half the time.

The good times, before my brother became addicted(along with the rest of my family) to a little bit of every drug. Causing a fear of abandonment in me. Before when he smiled because he was clean and healthy but now is suffering in prison.

The good times I miss them. Even though I was only a little child. I dream of them, wishing I could go back. Because if I could go back make my father stop drinking and love us again. Make my mother not get canser and go broke only to have her husband and son break her heart. Make my brother turn away form the drugs. Life might be happy and good again. But that's like a smile on a dog.