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Romona Hardy
Poems
Jul 2013
mr.daniels
The nightly ritual
starts with just one drink
as he ingests liquid hatred
that resides in the fridge by the sink.
She sits there in solace
and watches the transformation
as his eyes change
shes witness to his degeneration.
She's learnt when to speak
as well as when to keep quiet
her bodys become to familiar
with black and with violet.
The house is a battle field
every night is world war three
there will never be a winner
and there will never be peace.
Written by
Romona Hardy
outer space
(outer space)
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