RedRavenPoems

The screaming and shouting take their toll.

They make one dive into a shell.

To fight back makes it worse,

For do you not live already in hell?

If you say anything it grows so much worse.

Keep silent and they still make it hurt.

Sometimes you think you’ll leave in a hearse,

As they treat you bad, tell you your dirt.

It saps the strength out of ones mind.

Takes the power of convictions you’ll find.

You begin to think you can do nothing right.

As you live on in this hellish plight.

You grow still. You grow silent. Become dead inside.

As who you were begins to wither and die.

The pain washes over you like an endless seaside.

Crimson with pain, black with terror. But where can you hide?

No where it seems, nowhere at all.

You are at their constant beck and call.

They got you pinned down, submit to their whim,

For really when can you ever win?

After the pain they talk to sweetly,

And you begin to wonder, why?

Why do you do this? What did I do?

Can you not see the pain you put me through?

I don’t think they can. But I doubt they truly care.

For what will you do? Or even better dare?

To get away from the devilish snare.

They think your trapped, and it’s perfectly fair.

But someday, some way, break free you shall.

I do not know when, nor even how.

We muster the strength to walk away,

And turn our backs to them, keep the past at bay