He was a typical abuser...
never let the marks show.
Never let the world know.
He smiled as he established a gentleman's resume.
But, when the doors closed.
The iron fists clenched
and did angry damage,
despite the begging cries and tears.
Connected, I knew.
I planned and I smiled.
The legend grows,
the speculation runs rampant.
The abuser, who feared me,
without knowing why...
disappeared.
I continue to smile.
Life is safer for the one left behind.
14 comments:
Gail you are a awesome poet. This is a tough subject but you captured it perfectly. An artist and a poet all wrapped up in the post office uniform who knew?:) B
sounds like the song 'earl's gotta die'
Eerie...I just finished "Room" - your work makes my mind swirl.
Great prose! Love it.
Mmmmm.....Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe?
I thought of the movie Fried Green tomatoes as well!
Well said Gail!
Gave me the chills!
I used to work in a clinic that was involved with domestic violence. This rang true to me.
Well done!
=)
Great job sweetie!
Enjoy your weekend and may it be filled with wonderful blessings!!! :o)
I also thought of Fried Green Tomatoes! LOL You have such a way with words!
Interesting verse ...
I'm glad she got her revenge. Her secret is safe with me. I will never tell.
Wow Gail
Wonderful stuff
You are poet . . . writer . . . truth . . . excellent . . .
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