Finally
When you go to bed every night,
wishing they would hold you tight,
You know better than that.
It seems to always be a trap,
Screamed and yelled at every day,
Making you suffer in every way,
Trapped inside this life of mine,
Will make you suffer and cry,
As will my heart of the crime,
That they have committed,
They destroyed my life,
So I took a knife,
To the middle of my heart,
The days I marked,
The torture is over,
Now I can finally rest,
With no more weight on my chest.
Copyright © Tori Brock | Year Posted 2016
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