Bit my lip.
Closed my eyes.
I let the pain.
Seep down inside.
Clenched my pillow.
Wipedd my tears.
Now my heart.
Was filled with fear.
See I knew.
This was a cycle.
Not temporary.
And never mild.
The fights and cursing.
Nights of no mercy.
The bitter anger.
And eye of terror.
But all I.
Could really say.
Was, here we go.
Go again.
Another day.
Another night.
Some brutal words.
Another fight.
No times of peace.
No time for smiles.
This story goes on.
For many miles.
Cause you see.
When It's a cycle.
Nothing changes.
Well, once in awhile.
The cycle changes.
From bad to worse.
And then we start.
A whole new course.
With a new kind of terror.
A new kind of pain.
A different type.
Of hurtful shame.
A piercing stare.
A evil word.
Now all I'll say.
Is these last few words.
Here we go, again.
It's a terrible ordeal that many families have to put-up with on regular basis. I went through this kind of experience until I left home, it was emotionally and psychologically draining. I like the articulation and penning of the story. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON. ➕9
I'm sorry for the chaos in your life, Jewel. Writing can be good therapy. Keep up the good work. Peace
Thank You ^-^ Not everything I write is like this, but I tend to write things that I hope everyone can relate to on some level.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome write. The rhythm and signifance on point