Broken

She’s under her head.
Scared for her skin.
Her husband’s sin,
Has started again.
Holding her breath,
She’s under her bed.
She’s feeling hurt,
And feeling despair.
The latter with anger a dangerous pair.

Car pulling into the driveway.
The door is being opened.
A wife too scared to say.
That her sleep is woken.
Too bad to be real.
She pinches herself, to feel.
And calms her mind with simple thoughts.
Not thinking of battles she once has fought.

While saying answer less prayers.
Hearing the steps on the stairs.
The raining pain of hurt and despair.
Drowning softly, her husbands sin.
Drunk again.
One stair to the top.
The door flies open.
While pain is broken.
A wife is broken.


Copyright © January 1st 2002 Joseph Michael Egan