freedom

written ballad-style, this was inspired by the experiences of some of the women i met while volunteering for a domestic violence organization in high school...

Her husband’s fist is raised in hate.                                                          

She cowers toward the wall.

Their children watch, eyes wide with fear,

And sit crying in the hall.

 

The confidence she had possessed

Was gone without a trace.

He stole it from her over time,

Indifference on his face.

 

“What can you do?” he mocked and scorned

When threatening she’d leave.

He cut her down and made her doubt,

“You know you still love me.”

 

Yet, when he left for work that day

She took the kids to flee.

Not looking back took all her strength,

But she, at last, was free!