Life’s abuse.

Knock me down again, plant a fist between my teeth
Whilst I lay on the icy hard floor, eyes closed for you to beat
Cold hands of steel grip my neck, suffocate me my last breath
I fight, I struggle, pounding weakened elbows upon your chest
Every time I rise, kicked back down upon myself
Every time an ounce of hope appears, you sit me back upon my shelf
Eerily, sickeningly, again I am bound to stand
Trip, stumble, knees grazed, you race your wheels across my hands
My head against the wall you knock, my back bruised red and raw
No sympathy or fear you feel, you are the only law
Dare I argue or interrupt, dare I try to get myself back up
There you are, forever and always, my reflective close up
Death’s door I long to knock, remove me from this hell
I pound, I kick, I scream yet too wounded for the bell
Bound, broken and bleeding, misery filled and alone
Here I sit without a hope, my sins no longer yours to atone
With the dawn the sun will rise, she sets too without a worry
Abused I am imprisoned, her rays see me and they scurry
No good am I for the world, or whatever’s in it
Clearly life’s abuse, should be indicative of it

Author: Moonsomnia

Blogger, reviewer, influencer | PR friendly | New blogs Tuesdays and Thursdays, 9am |

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