Late At Night

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Late at night my soul cries and weeps .Laying in my bed I hope he doesn't creep into my room or onto my bed waiting for the "midnight" treat. Holding my legs and eyes tight shout wishing someone would hear my tears  of sorrow, as my mouth is held down with a pillow. He cheers with the bottle of gin in a hand. The smell of liquor and smoke is one I know quite well, from the taste given to me to dwell. On my mouth and body it sticks so that my teachers think I'm mixed, in with the wrong crowd pressured in the lies they tell. only if they knew how I felt wanting my mother to dial those three numbers and save me from my rain of pain. Only to see her stand and applaud say it was my fault for all that I saw. In the eyes of this man that creeped at night into my room giving me such fright. Looking into the mirror I see dirt and a waste of life that cringed and cried in the corner too many nights. Alone needing love and might to go through another night. to scrub the pain away until I'm red but it seems it comes back my way. you told me to believe in you so here I go. here's my prayer to show that god can only know how much this pain hurts knowing of my father's wicked curse, that now lives inside of me for nine months of hurt....

This poem is about: 
Our world

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