She is the real victim

SHE IS THE REAL VICTIM

She was upstairs in bed lying awake,

Waiting for the sound of an opening gate,

Then her problems would begin again,

Would he once more inflict more pain?

When he is sober which isn’t often,

His mood would almost certainly soften,

Over the years his drinking had become excessive,

And ultimately to her he would be aggressive,

Stumbling down the path he would come once more,

Shouting at her cos he couldn’t unlock the door,

Anger all over his face, cussing at her as if it were her fault,

This man who she once loved, but love had turned to revolt,

His drinking started several years ago, with it came the abuse,

For years she put up with this drunken brute, for him there is no excuse

Time after time he battered her, he beat her black and blue,

Grabbed her hair, forced her to do things she didn’t want to do,

Today is the day of reckoning, when she can take no more,

Something snapped inside of her, as he tried to pin her to the floor,

She reached out and could feel an object hard and round,

And with it on his head it came crashing down,

She hit him again and again, it was her time to answer back,

Blood came rushing from his head from an open crack,

All went quiet he slumped beside her lifeless, very still,

This man she wanted to escape from, never ever intended to kill,

The police will come now, and no doubt take her away,

But who will judge her? What can they say?

Years of abuse for this lady, will now end in jail.

She is the real victim of this sorry tale.

Johnsbucket