Secrets behind walls,
behind smiles,
His bruising hands,
his lips full of denial,
Crashing down,
like a crashing car,
I wonder about my children,
Can they see this,
And where they are,
Silently this becomes my muse,
A statistic in a case of abuse,
I have come to far for this,
This fury this rage is his,
Letting go this time,
Was easier than before,
As I close a once open door.
SG
Please visit Flexwriters Sunday Brunch...
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