blood

blood comming from her eyes like tears from a crying child.

a heart so black, it's blacker than night its self.

 

she hides in the dark during the day only to come out at night.

she has no friends for being angery at the world around her.

 only the headless dolls, and clowns she plays with are her friends.

her parents are never around her for they fear her and regret her.

 

anger at her father for never comming to save her from her drunkin father and crazy mother.

sadness for her two yonger brothers for they do not see what is happening, all they see is the hand of there father being struck against there faces. leaving hand prints across them.

 she riskes her own life in order to stop her brothers pain, and anger building like hers does.

 warning her mother and father that if it doesnt stop she will stop it. no matter what it has to take.

 

as she goes back to her room, she hears the cries of her brothers.

immediatly she runs down the stairs only to see her brothers bleeding and crying for he has struck him one last time.

 

she runs up to her brothers being struck by his hand herself.

as she cadders to them her anger grose ...

making her bloody tears poor out of her eyes, and her skin turns pail white.

as her father goes to strike her one last time she reaches up and grabs his hand before it hits her.

 

the last thing her brothers ever seen of there parents was the little pieces being thrown into the near by river. feeding the hungry fish.

 

now once more she is alone.

caddering to her two brothers, she becomes the only family they have. the only friends... the only anything they will ever know till they die.

 

Reviews

[Charles D. Moorer]

This story has the making of a novella or a short story. Develop it. The impact of what yo have to say is lessened because of your poor spelling. The words we use are the clothes we dress our thoughts and ideas in. Words represent the writer, they say somethng about you. If you don't care, thats fine, but I think because you feel you have something to say, you do care. Proofread please, or get someone to proofread for you.

[Coyote Poetry]

A sad and dark tale. Abuse children know no freedom of fear till they escape the demons. I like how you told the tale. Sort of a happy ending. Thank you for sharing the powerful poetry.
Coyote

[Tony]

I think Mr. Moorer is right.
You could expand this considerably.
I was thinking that the pathetic excuse for a father figure would be the last one to expect his punching bag to suddenly have a .357mag in her hand.....
Nor would the fish expect all the great food in such a polluted river.
Good work, Kinny.

[phantazma]

"anger at her father for never comming to save her from her drunkin father and crazy mother" ???