Abuse and violence
Awaited her at home.
Her nights were spent sobbing,
Dreading one more night alone.
Beaten and traumatized,
She came to me, so teary-eyed,
Still crying, after one more night
Brought on yet another fight.

Strongly, she stood as
Her mother cruelly drove the
Words through her head,
“I’d rather you were dead”,
Nothing could prepare us for
What lied ahead.

As I soon saw her,
Walking down my street,
I smiled in her direction.
My feet, tapping to the quickened heartbeat.
“I must leave” Were her sudden words,
To me it sounded so absurd,
“I have to leave this place of sorrow,
My way out will come tomorrow.”
“How far away?”
I had to ask,
“Too far away
For us to have a chance.”
She replied,
Wiping bitter tears from her eyes.

So there we stood,
For what seemed like hours,
Crying together,
Bitterly watering the flowers at our feet…
At the end of my dimly-lit street.