The First Day Or Last
She looks in the mirror full of anticipation.
A bright shining future with a good education.
A beautiful smile with deep defined dimples.
One day at a time, life seems so simple.
Up bright and early, so happy so bliss.
Hair styled perfect, nothing amiss.
She picks up her perfume and gives it a spray.
All primped and ready to start this fine day.
She grabs her suitcase from under the bed.
On top lies her husband, a hole through his head.
She remembers the beating. It was the last.
With a gun in her hand, she remembers the blast.
She takes one last look before leaving the past.
Then closing the door….
….it’s freedom at last.
Originally, the entire poem was going to be nothing more than a reflection of the girls life and her view of herself. Then....I couldn't come up with an ending without going on and on....so, just ended up with a "twist" to end it. (To anyone in such a situation, I am not and do not condone the shooting of someone as an "out" for domestic violence, as sad as it is, I can't condone it, you do, however, have my heartfelt sympathy/empathy and understanding). Love Ya
Copyright © Tracy Martin | Year Posted 2013
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