The Greatest Gift
A house stands upon a shady hill
Owned by a lass addicted to a pill.
Day and night, hell or high water,
After saying goodnight to her daughter,
The woman would go, and she'd sit
And she'd pop until she had fits.
Thrashing about on the kitchen floor,
Dear mother wasn't okay anymore.
It started out with dear old Pa,
With his loud hees and thunderous has.
He would sit with Heather on his lap,
And laugh til you had to give his back a slap.
Mother, sober, would stand and admire
Her husband in his sailor's attire.
He'd laugh until he coughed up phlegm.
No wonder that laugh is what killed him.
Heather was there on that old man's knee
When he was laughing about the three
Who went out at dawn to catch herring
Unaware of the clothes they weren't wearing.
And right across from the young girls' nunnery!
The men were filled with such shunnery!
He laughed so hard his heart couldn't bear it.
So now Pa watches over Heather as a spirit.
Those spirits are what compelled her to get out of bed,
A butcher knife raised high above her head.
Dear mother, poor mother, sprawled and asleep,
She would've been saved if her slumber wasn't so deep.
Little Heather had suffered so much abuse,
Since her mother often told her she had no use.
A worthless doll that moves and talks,
Who finally decided to show Mother who's boss.
Knife raised, intent burning,
Heather brought the knife down with such yearning.
Yearning to spill her blood on the floor,
She brought the knife down right before
Mother's fluttering eyes had time to open.
She brought the same fate as the boatman.
Yes, Heather brought her father's demise
Despite having innocent baby doll eyes.
Now, Heather has been at it for years,
Cutting people between the ears,
Lacing gin and rum and whiskey,
Doing things a bit too risky.
Making herself scarce when people come,
Always living on the run.
Heather knows her time is close
And often thinks back to those she loved most.
The father who used to chortle with glee
Didn't notice the arsenic in his tea.
Her mother, so stricken with grief
Should've held her liquor but fell asleep.
The grandmother who took her in after
Probably didn't deserve to be battered.
The aunt, the uncle, the cousin, the friend
All met some unfortunate, untimely end.
Years have passed, and Heather is twenty-four,
Clutching her head, she lies on the floor.
The daughter she had much to young
Has decided to end this life on the run.
Beaten and batted, Heather lies
Holding onto hope that this isn't how she dies.
Above her, she sees in the mirror,
Her daughter's image getting closer, clearer.
At six, she had followed in Mommy's tracks
After they killed her boyfriend, Jax.
He hurt her, though it might've been a dream,
Oh well, Jax had always been mean.
Melanie clutches the knife, grinning,
Now that she knew of her mommy's sinning,
These thoughts, these emotions, so right all along.
Only one of them left the room at dawn.
She walks along, hiding her wounds
In a soft wool coat-like cocoon
The sun has come up now
And she already knows how
The police are questioning neighbors and friends
To find how a five year old met her end.
Aboard another train, Heather grins.
Just another mistake to add to a box of sins.