All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Picture Frame
I knew I had made a mistake.
I could never just keep my mouth shut.
Before I had the chance to flee,
I was up against the wall.
As he lifted me higher,
I wondered how my hair could hold the weight of me.
The house was quiet,
Save for my screaming man,
And the sound of his spit hitting the wall.
I stared beyond the scene,
The paint was chipping on the ceiling.
As I was thrown into the corner,
I heard a shatter.
A picture had fallen,
The frame in pieces.
My man walked away,
And told me to clean the mess.
As I picked up the glass,
I noticed the picture.
My man’s wife and newborn.
The wife gone, the newborn with her.
I knew my man was in pain,
He had lost all that mattered.
If I could endure the lashings,
Maybe I can be enough.
If I learn to be quiet,
Maybe I can appease.
I stole a piece of the frame,
And put it in my drawer,
Always to remind me,
I am not the one who suffers.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.