Untitled

By
More by this author
In the classroom
She sits at the back
Wearing pigtails
And a pink knapsack
She puts on a smile and raises her hand
To answer the question
The teacher demands
But nobody knows
What her true feelings are
The cuts and scrapes
The bruises and scars
Inside of her
These things have bloomed
From her home
Dark with gloom

She dreads the time
When she must go
Back to the place
She’s forced to call home
As she walks
Down the road
She shivers with fear
Not the cold

She thinks what will happen
When she gets home tonight
Curled up in the corner
Quailing in fright
The throwing and yelling
She knows will not end
She thinks,
Winces
As she steps ‘round the bend
She takes a deep breathe
And rings the bell
Then the door opens
She steps into hell





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback