Everyday I come home and I listen to the criticism
I hear the constant yelling and all of the sexism
And I can feel it rising up my throat
the words I want to say, but can't quote
His evil eyes stare into me as he finally let's me be
But there's so much anger, and so much guilt
Agitating me looks as if that's the only reason he was built
It seems to me that his love is nonexistent
And my fear of him is too persistent
I can never play this and I can never listen to that
Arguing with him turns into going to combat
I just have to let it be because my "friends" drug pressuring couldn't get to me
We both terribly know his methods are working and I can just feel him smirking
I know he loves me but he doesn't express it when push comes to shove
What would happen if he just raised me with love?
YOU ARE READING
Poems!
PoésieIn honor of National Poetry Month, I'll be posting poems on here and will (hopefully) have 30 poems here by May, and I'll continue but not as often after that.
