The Words and Eyes That Killed Me
His words,
Were the fists,
That picked the bricks,
That built the wall,
Between me and security.
His drunken eyes,
Filled with hate,
Were the hands,
That took away,
All my self respect.
When I die,
I just know,
I'll see his eyes,
Empty from years of drink,
Staring at me from the face of death.
When my world ends,
I just know,
I'll hear his words,
Filled with hate,
Echoing in my dying mind.
Copyright © Christopher Wellbelove | Year Posted 2007
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