The aftermath!
I have survived the storm and it's destructive path.
My eye's open to see what's left in the aftermath.
It seems hope has been lost,
The road ahead is going to cost.
My son, I pray doesn't have to face prison.
The word divorce in this family has risen.
As the wounds begin to heal.
I'm still not sure how I feel.
I cry until my face is blue,
I'm sad and don't know what to do.
Judgements have been made
but, What do you know about that day?
Scared and confused
Thought he was coming to protect his mom from being abused.
In the blink of an eye the rage of a man had him in his sight,
He didn't what he had to do, so he stood there and put up a fight!
Right or wrong, self defense or not he chose this life.
When he decided to protect his himself with a knife.
I love you son and I continue to pray,
I will pray that the Lord will get us through another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem