Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Fighting against Freedom

When they think I won’t hurt them because I’m a girl,
I love it.

When I listen to them talk trash, and I start getting close then their attitude changes,
I love it.

When I hit them hard and their blood stains my knuckles,
I love it

When they yell for help and nobody comes to their side,
I love it

When I kick them in the face and laugh at their anguish,
I love it

When the police show up and the handcuffs appear,
I hate it.

When I stand in front of the judge and the prosecutor is relentless,
I hate it.

When I’m behind locked doors and she is outside,
I hate it.

When she got some bruises, and some scars, I got my freedom taken away,
I hate it.

1 comment:

Cheryl Duckworth said...

omg i miss you but umm i lovee this poem right here good job