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I see your lips moving, But I can't hear you anymore, I stare at you with wide eyes, All I want to do is run out the door. You say you were angry, You ask me to understand, We both notice I flinch when you touch, My still tender cheek with your coarse hand. I hate what you did to me, I hate all of your cruelty, But poor little William and sweet little Annie Would never understand if I chose to ran free. I look at you smile at my children, All I see is the blood on the bed, I look at my children smile so carefree, And I choose to believe it was all in my head.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 10/23/2018 6:19:00 PM
Powerful! The truth well done.
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Date: 10/23/2018 1:29:00 PM
Ouch, very realistic, very good hope another poem will come and show children are safe and so is mom.
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Date: 10/16/2018 10:29:00 PM
nice description /// belief can lead to stability
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