Lights, camera, action.
Little less of your loving passion
Everyone give a round of applause to,
The improper use of something
Defined as use to a bad effect,
Or for a careless purpose.
In other words, misuse.
Not a softened love song
That sings its bruised heart out to you
But a disguise
“Abuse is okay,” they said.
It is okay in every way, shape or form
To hurt a unique person
Whose eyes shine with happiness,
To leave them black, purple, and blue
The only escape from your deadly demons
The scowls and screams,
My love, oh it isn’t a dream.
But death is not the answer
It is pain in which you seek
Pain in every hit,
Every day, and
But the world yells, “IT IS OKAY!”
It is okay,
For people deserve a punishment,
For those who committed crimes,
As written in New York Times,
And that’s why there are hotlines,
So victims can understand the treatment they deserved,
Hid underneath the smiles and nurture
Viewed as the hellbound torture
Abuse is the love you search
You won’t expect this from a person until their gentle pools known as their eyes rage and lash out with hatred and acrimony,
Leaving trails of the colors red, purple, blue.
Yet the world says, “It is okay!”
It is okay to drown in their pitch black pools and their seas,
To be pulled away from friends and family,
From work too, so there’s no more feeling good about yourself,
Drugs are a major item nowadays,
Left in the hands of an addict, the bottle pierces at his mind
But you see, he does not care for what the liquid does to him,
Just like many other people in my crazy, unloved country.
He despises you.
Liquid after liquid,
Shot after shot,
Needles within him, all containing alcohol.
It numbs him.
It wasn’t his fault he beat her to death.
It was all abuse,
Scarred her with red lines of issues,
And all for his “loving” passion day views.
It wasn’t her fault.
She died in love with a man who only pained her deeply,
And every time she was abused,
She kept her mouth shut
But she didn’t have to
YOU don’t have to.
Live a life you deserve,
Say the words you’ve been afraid to say.
Just state, “I’ve been abused!”
Because trust me darling,
You aren’t the only one.
We all have once experienced “love.”
Don’t be afraid,
There are many others like you and me who wait to see,
Who would be the first to end it all.
To end the pain and the suffering by a sinful lover,
A menacing stance,
An iniquitous touch.
Speak to someone who can heal the wound,
Cure the gash.
Tell me world,
Who will end the troubled brain wash
That they left all the innocent minds?
Can’t you say,
the answer is simple?
Who will end it?
It all ends if you allow it to.
End that “loving” passion
Because we all know,
Love has it’s honesty
And abuse has it’s act.
Lights, camera, action.