In childhood years, a storm did rage inside
Uncle's wrath, a tempest that did abide
Waves of fury did crash upon my soul
And cruel words would constantly roll

In the house, a famine did occur
Uncle feasting, leaving me unsure
With empty stomachs, we were left to cope
While he drank and ate without a hope

Each day was a struggle to survive
Uncle's anger, a never-ending revive
As I slumbered, he would shout and brawl
His noise like a thunderclap that would appall

But now, I've left that turbulent domain
And found solace, free from the torrential strain.
© Adriel Montejano