Awake with a startle, wondering where
she was,
How long was she unconscious? She
doesn't remember.
Tries to open her eyes, she just
cannot.
Why does it pain so much, she's perplexed,
She suddenly remembers the blows on her
face,
musters up the courage to face herself.
In herself she sees the first day he
hit her,
and days that followed with flowers
and gifts.
10 years after, that routine still
follows.
Being beaten to pulp and then flowers.
Is she supposed to cushion herself
with them?
Are they nothing but false promises?
Is she going to be compensated for the
drunken violence,
night-after-night-after-night?
Why does she stay, why does she put up
with this life?
Is it love? Is it fear? Is it about her own insecurities?
Is it love? Is it fear? Is it about her own insecurities?
She touches the scars that have now
found a permanent place.
Will she ever find herself? Will she
ever find answers?
Will he ever be the same?
Will he ever be the same?
She's lost more than she thought
herself to be.
It is a man's world indeed.
It is a man's world indeed.
She hears a distant wail, stammering,
stumbling, she goes,
Her only child, the apple of her eye,
her savior in her dark gloomy life.
She picks her up, and cradles her to
sleep,
singing the songs her own mother used
to sing.
The child falls back into a deep slumber,
safe in her mother's arms, oblivious to her hell.
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