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They say life is what you make

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Mommy get up and fight back
The more I screamed
He attacked
Stop hitting her, I scream in pain
But he keeps beating her
Over, and over again
My Mother cries
Bruises under her left eye
Now she's depress, whelps on her chest
If I knew then, what I know now
His soul would be at rest.......

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

LadyHunt’s Poems (2)

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LadyHunt’s Friends (2)