Violence Symphony

+5

It starts when I hear your feet,
Left right left like a steady drum beat.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Four measure rest before you’re at my door.
Crash. Boom. Bang.
My head hits the floor like a symbol’s clang.
You’re screams of anger and my tearful plea
Form the Great American melody.
Whimpers and groans that spill from me,
Create the world’s saddest harmony.
Halfway through the time signature slows
I’m scared to death, and I know it shows
One last hit as I hold out the final note,
My breathing is short and it’s caught in my throat.
You smile at the end, you’re proud of your performance,
Who knew such talent was being kept dormant?
That’s my life, my personal symphony,
Too bad it’s not worth your sympathy.
My one last thought as you slam the door,
When would this abuse have its encore?

This poem was written/submitted by lisha len.

 Email This Poem To Your Friend