In the fumes of the morning
No one will probe how I must be coping
Feeling scared and horrified, by day as in darkness
Agitated … and eyes offending brine
No one will glimpse to console my fears,
Tear me off the land, for life is worse than death.
In the evening when I am back from school
Nasty, disgusting chatters from the same actors
Furry shrouding the place as smoke from burnt rags
“Will there be harmony?" Antonio ‘d ask petrified
Neither a passerby will tarry to intercede.
They all are tired of arbitrating reckless brawls
I'd sit in the backyard distressed and hopeless
Neither mom nor daddy would feel for our cries
Frank would pull my hand for a walk, I'd shrug off
Against the wall from dawn till dusk- I'd lean
Numb and glacial, gazing for length to nothing
Tastes of life are bitter than stings of death
Induced shame in the shadow of our home
No esteem for Daddy when he flashes a smile -
Fear prunes my joy when someone calls 'Mum'
All miserable and storming perhaps it’s for a lifetime
Nothing would possibly allay refined cheers
Tell me when will these fights and fibs close
Being a talk show,
A victim of mental torture
Will Mum and Daddy learn?
Love and peace root from them
So, an infant bawls – ‘hell is abuse’