People had tattoos,
Instead I had bruises,
Yes, I was abused,
But I had no choices.
He gave me a punch,
Right in the face,
He left me for lunch,
And my heart started to pace.
Every night he will get home,
With a new girl who is unknown,
He left me drowning in the foam,
I struggled to breathe and started to groan.
In the morning he bought me flowers,
To make up what he did to me,
But it was no use since he tortures,
It was all useless like a rusted key.
Two months past,
A divorce happened,
We didn't last,
As the atmosphere saddened.
He visited me,
With tears that waves,
He felt a misery,
As it was at my grave.
YOU ARE READING
Junk ; Poems
Poezjain which i write random poems when i'm sad. filled with emotions and my poetry grows throughout the years.
