Broken

She ran out of the car and violently went inside.
Knocking down everything that was in her way.
I was trapped but what I spoke wasn’t a lie.
And that’s what she couldn’t take as nay.

I heard clashing and broken,
Thudding and throwing.
CLASH CLASH THUD.
Thud Clash Clash.

What she was doing in there
I had but the least bit of a clue.
I did worry for myself,
Cause it was something I not knew.

Her anger rose so suddenly,
With every one of my spoken words.
That caused her way’s so violently.
As she barged in through that door.

I angered still for freedom,
Thus I was held back,
I knew something was already done,
I pushed and pushed but no luck.

Then when he wise think they’ve spoken,
I was released at last,
But I saw her coming out broken,
Cause tears were running in a mass.

I cared not for her anger
It was myne I grew stiff for,
But when I saw it was a dagger,
Invisibly sticking in and tore,
My pictures off the wall,
Broken, laying on the floor,
I calmed down a little bit more.

She left without a goodbye,
Like I said I could cared less.
Then bombed I was with tides,
Of harsh words and rapprochements.

I argued my point’s surface,
Thus listened to I was not.
She argued the violent ones inner hate
This was a cause that was long lost.

I then retired to my room
And writing now I am.
This stupid day gone a gloom,
That now I think was just lame.

But what she doesn’t realise,
Is as much as she tries,
She will end up like me so why lie,
About everything she will have to hide?

Yes she holds anger deep inside.
She tells me all the tyme.
I have learned to waive it off,
So why can’t she hold on to what’s love?

I might have disappointed you,
But there’s still more I have to show.
And she, just barely young,
Still has a longer way to go.

Why so bitter now a days?
And you let her wanting pass,
Like nothing, you welcome her ways
But the bad things still haven’t a HAS.

So I’ll stop my rant here,
I would’ve like you to understand this,
But it just passes through your ears,
I hold empty words whose meanings you miss.

If ever you come to read this, Mother.
I hope it’s not too late.
Cause there is something you can do about her.
But me, it’s gone a waste.