The Crushed Flower

Abuse to women, happens all around the world. Each day, an innocent flower is crushed...

What started out as white and gold,

Ended with black, blue and stories untold,

She had dreamt of a time when she'd be a bride,

But ended up with scars and no place to hide.

A flower from a garden bright,

Lovelier than the stars at night,

The apple of her parents eyes',

She was an angel, caught in a web of lies.

She was plucked from her garden way too young,

Blinded by the words a devil sung

Promises, dreams, love and more,

Her innocent heart bewitched and sore

From need, to be happy, loved and adored,

To be the bride in silk, pearls and gold.

She pictured her children running wild,

A happy life, with problems mild.

Days, weeks and months pass by,

The devil slowly sheds his disguise,

She bleeds tears at this woeful sight,

Fades away slowly, her usual happy light.

She had thought love to be warm,

But her mind was now caught, in a storm.

Tales of respect and care that she was told,

Blown away by the winds, cold.

The pain, the wounds, the sadness, she felt,

Brought by the man she loved, and his belt .

The burn of fingers across her face,

Covered with all the useless lace.

Helpless, hopeless, broken inside,

She stands on the edge of a cliff, and cries.

Flashes of her shattered life,’ Worth as much as a dime'

She thinks, as she shuts her eyes, for one last time.