Our children are being snatched from our grasp with every single second. I won't stop mourning until I am comforted and I refuse to find comfort in anything except the sight of the innocent ones alive again. If you were not so deaf, you would hear the endless weeping, that pain provoked groan, and every now and again a silence so solemn and horrific you'd find yourself frozen in shock.
Have seen in these years of mine
More horrors than many in a hundred see.
I have seen grief, and bitterness, and pain.
You have given that to me.
That has been your gift.
Beats at ten thousand times its normal pace
For fear when I see you walk into the room
I know what’s coming next. Onto-
Will not pay your bills.
Not after you left me with a child.
I wear loose clothes to hide her- it’s a girl, I think.
And I won’t let you take her away.
Littered with bruises you left,
Is a canvas for the horrifying picture
You wish to paint me into-
One where you are the puppet master
And I your marionette.
But I am only a child,
Not a vehicle for your twisted pleasure.