The rafters shake in irritation, as if to say what's the excuse?
A temper flames, then brings a tear. It sears self-worth, again...again
Someone there has claimed the right and then the pain.....again...again
...The cracking whip of lashing tongues, where ridicule is wearing thin
A lightning strike, and anger spikes and victims die in little bites
It's somewhere close, a house nearby, we may not know, it goes unseen
But seams are ripping someone's life, every day, every night
stripping pride and self esteem
With little thought, for what they do....is it someone you might know?
With no excuse, could it be you? Or if it's not, what will you do?
Between the cracks one hears the taunts, wearing old familiar hats
Each shingle fears another hour......of rain that comes behind the fire
Is it your street, beyond the gate, another storm, regret too great ?
Does hope still cling, where love is sought?...
Is this called love...? I'd say it's not
For The Contest: "abuse"
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