bitter, sweet days Penric gamhra Book
by Penric gamhra

Storyline

my dad was of conflict his love for me comes in a bottle of liquid (pain) he would talk to me as if i am in the living room and he was upstairs but i was always right there in his hands as humble a little girl answering in pain at age 5 it was a act of threat in the sight of god for ones to disobey their parents my mother gave half of her to me and the rest to the world my dad was of conflict, he drags me across the hallway it was a ride i taste blood in my food that saturday afternoon the earth spins slow for an hour my dad was of conflict, he taught me that i should know the truth from now so i won't be lost years to come he was of conflict he went inside of me and pulled out blood and i was only ten he says it was a fact that blood of jesus do exist it was of pain tuesday afternoon after school my skin shivers in fright an entire night he was of conflict soon i realized it was not true what can i do already drenched with fear mom became so deaf and my mouth grown too lie dad of conflict dad anger and desire was too much for my poor little soul i left a letter thanking mom for she was not care at age sixteen i disappear for love my dad of conflict, yes he had died, i was age 21 i return home to pit of my hurt to see i couldn't dried tears that she was there i went again for the only thing i have left was dignity in my blood and i didn't want it gone my dad was of conflict, this time in a different form he still brings the wars between only i saw john and he sees me too i played him my song told him i don't want to dance the same tune over he was no better, he became john of conflict he did what dad did and more...............   carl and peter they all were the same different men wearing the same shoes this was when i found i was born on the trunk of abuse men of conflict one of them which was peter change the dearing a young me has fallen from inside of me, a miracle of god innocent stars i asked god daily to protect her from dad because he still haunts me from the pit of his very grave    - my childhood story hurts like hell wasn't the end of    the world though i use faith and carry-on - dad careful you might not like what you have created bitter or sweet