Flashback.

Once again, one of my own experiences.

The bottle flew, the glass shattered, and the blood began to flow.

He raised his fist, looked straight in her eyes, and gave a final blow.

She didn't bother fighting, she couldn't even cry.

She waited for it all to stop, wishing she could die.

She'd gotten used to it, his drunken anger.

He'd scream at her, and point his crooked finger.

He blamed her and told her all she was was worthless,

With every one of his tantrums he broke her heart to pieces.

She'd try to hide but he always knew where,

He broke her bones and her will and it just wasn't fair.

One day they came and took the girl away, 

But she kept quiet, afraid he'd make her pay.

She kept her to herself but the memory stood,

Of the man who beat her and drank to feel good.

He was supposed to love her and tuck her into bed, 

Instead he screamed and supplied bad thoughts to fill her head.

She was so little and he was so big,

She was so innocent and he was a pig.

The memories still haunt her to this day,

And she swears one day she'll make "Daddy" pay.