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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=400018" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Under fire at home</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At times your were extremely happy<br>and impulsive, sometimes morose, <br>withdrawn or suicidal<br>trying to hide from the world<br>or sometimes even aggressive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your Manic-Depressive Psychosis<br>needed a scapegoat<br>to whip, to burn with molten plastic, <br>to cut and stab with a knife<br>and to shoot at with a gun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You told me <br>that you had cheated me<br>with another man<br>while I was busy <br>with the computer<br>and smashed your heels down<br>on some software<br>breaking compact disks and started<br>kicking at the SCSI drives<br>of the computer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I got really angry and told you<br>that in my eyes<br>you were nothing more<br>than an unpaid whore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You didn’t say anything at this<br>and walked to the bedroom<br>and I went to the bathroom<br>to brush my teeth <br>and get ready for bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have never been closer to death<br>than when you (my now ex-wife) <br>with my 9 mm pistol <br>fired right through <br>the bathroom door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Five shots rang out<br>and the magazine<br>had nine more<br>and the bullets were hollow point<br>and nickel-tipped mixed<br>and automatically I kept score.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s another thing<br>to be fired upon<br>by the enemy in war, <br>but when your wife<br>go totally nuts<br>and bullets fly<br>just past your head<br>and one brushes your arm<br>things are out of control.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I didn’t have time<br>to lock the bathroom door<br>and took cover<br>next to the bath<br>on the floor</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you opened that door<br>pushed the pistol<br>against my head<br>and said that you<br>would shoot me dead<br>and I could smell<br>the burnt gunpowder<br>but your youngest child<br>tried to cover me<br>with his small body.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I should have left you then <br>and there, <br>have called the cops, <br>have had you classified as mad<br>but love sometimes<br>doesn’t ask for intelligence<br>and outreaches problems<br>on its own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=400018" data-title="Under fire at home de Gert Strydom" data-description="At times your were extremely happy
and impulsive, sometimes morose, 
withdrawn or suicidal
trying to hide from the world
or sometimes even aggressive.

Your Manic-Depressive Psychosis
needed a scapegoat
to whip, to burn with molten plastic, 
to cu..."></div>
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