Fighter

Do you see the bruises?
Do you taste the blood?
This life he chooses...
Wait...
Did you hear that thud?

Runaway!
Find an escape.
There has to be a way.
This isn't your fate.

You're strong.
He's weak.
You've waited this long,
Now you can't even speak.

You fall,
And cry.
Stand tall.
Now, just drive.

You'll survive,
He will suffer.
Now take that knife,
Make him tougher.

Hold on,
You're almost there.
They'll call him, Doe, John;
They'll say it was fair.

Written on May 4, 2017
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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