Cleasnsing Dishes

November 18, 2008
Dishes carelessly piled upon the board
Muddy water and dirty scum preside
Tired hands scrape muck from the crusty hoard
Only her eyes reveal what she came to hide
His shadow rose before her stricken form
Hands twitching with cold unrighteous rage
Cruel blows cascaded down upon clothing shorn
Yet battle internal not started to wage
The memories flood like dishwater ooze
Abandoned she wept hot tears of despair
Scars ripped inside her, domestic abuse
This job to uplift her, from darkness spare

Washing away the remembrances hollow
Misery halted, a new way to follow

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