Daddy yelled
and Mommy cried
and new dresses appeared.
A pattern
my young heart
vowed to break.
Chose a man,
reticent in nature,
pursued a career.
Then babies came
and I stayed home
and he withheld cash.
Pendulum swings
left to right – money
holds the key to powers.
Patterns, it seems,
twist and morph,
leave me impoverished.
One Woman's Quest 
rough. Financial abuse is a terrible one. One needs at least a little money to be able to feel fully themselves. To withhold it, is to suppress an individual.
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I’m 60 and I’m still trying to figure it out – some lessons are for life. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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I felt you needed a hug when I read this. Between two people who love each other this
situation should never occur. It is grim.
I realise with clarity how harmonious my childhood was.
Wish the wounds heal
miriam
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Thank you. You are lucky to have had a harmonious childhood. This too shall pass.
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Yes! It shall and it will. Good will knock it on the head.
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Oh, I like that thought.
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Happy New Year to you V.J.. The poem is depressingly true.
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Isn’t it? Happy New Year to you, and a prosperous one too!
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