*** he’s an ***
Not much to say, just ***
He calls me *** too, and worse.
I hate that man, he can burn in hell.
**** him, I don’t need his ****
He’s an *** an *** to all he knows.
Mom, dad, wife, son, he’s a *****
He doesn’t care, why should he?
It’s all he knows, he’s good at it too.
Why stop? He loves himself for doing it.
Strokes his ego when he does it.
He’s never more proud then after a beat down.
“I’m sorry” he says, it’s too late, the damage is done.
She runs and hides, I don’t blame her.
I’d do the same thing if I had the chance.
Why does she put up with it?
I’ll never know, I don’t really care.
I know him, it’s like a drug.
Addict, it’s what he needs to thrive.
Wish for death, then it’ll stop.
That’s the only way, it has to be.
Why else would he do it all?
I don’t want his ****** *** story on why.
I just want her safe, I’d die for her.
One day, that’s all it takes.
One day, one night, one end.
He’s an *** end of story.