Emily Troudt Poet I do not know?

Broken Home

I hear a car door slam.
As I lie awake in bed.
I know now that you’re hear.
A single tear is shed.

I sense what will occur,
When you stumble through the door.
You’ll take it out on her,
Then leave her shattered on the floor.

She’ll pick herself back up again,
Then come into my room.
And tell me that she can sustain.
All your binding doom.

But I know it’s not the truth,
She’s slowly dieing inside.
You’re taking away her youth,
While she swallows all her pride.

I know she thinks of running away,
But she realizes it’s no use.
There will be a price to pay,
And it will end in more abuse.

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