She clutches her bag tightly,
her eyes never leaving the floor;
a tired sigh as the leaves crackle,
under feet, achingly sore

Returning from a stressful job,
she realizes she’s in no hurry,
After all, what she does at home,
is feed her constant worry

A devoted wife to a drunkard,
His abuses, she must bear,
For the sake of her little ones,
to leave him, she doesn’t dare

Her fingers on the doorbell,
she braces herself for what’s in store,
***** dishes in the sink,
and clothes scattered on the floor

Sighing, she picks up her wailing son,
and kisses her daughter’s bandaged knee,
she knows as long as she is a woman,
she’ll never be completely free.