Nothing Is Right, Every Things Wrong
Perfect wounds bound up with battered bruises
stretch across my tiny little body.
No one knows the life I live behind closed doors
an the pain I endure each day on a cold slab floor.
Nothing is right, Every things wrong
Mommy wishes that I was gone.
She hits me hard across my head
While screaming I wish you were dead.
She grabs my arm an screams at me some more
telling me to clean her floor,
an wipe that blood up before I get some more.
My heart pounds away wishing I could just fly away
never loved an never be missed.
I close my eyes wishing for death
I feel the warm blood roll down my side
as mommy stuck the knife deep inside.
No more pain an no more tears
Ive gone away some where safe.
Nothing is right,Every things wrong
except that I am gone.
Copyright © Anita Harris | Year Posted 2016
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