From His Evil Eyes

I am only three,

My eyes are swollen red,

Mean is all my dad can be,

He says he wants me dead.

Dad hits me with his fists,

In my stomach and face,

He roughly grabs my wrists,

I begin to pace.

When he is done I run to my room,

I hide in the back of my closet,

I can smell some gas fume,

I hope he will pause it.

The older I get, the worse the abuse has got,

I am now fourteen,

I have begin to plot,

The bruises the teachers has seen.

My teacher calls the police,

They came to rescue me,

They told me that it's my turn to have some peace,

I now don't have to see.

Now I am away from the abuse,

However, in my dreams I still see the hate from his evil eyes,

I see that they arrested him in the news,

But slowly the dreams dies.

Years have went by,

I am no longer scared of him,

I no longer ask why,

I no longer am feeling grim.

I have started my own life,

And I promised to never abuse my child,

I am a wife,

I am not going to be wild.

My children will never have to worry,

They will never have to see from his evil eyes,

They will never have to grow up in a hurry,

They will grow up wise.

Piece by piece I am becoming a better person,

My children are growing up,

And they know his sin,

I wonder what they will be like as grownup.

I created a life that was different from my dad,

I will never make the same mistakes and say some of the lies,

I am no longer sad,

And I am glad that I will never have to see from his evil eyes.


This poem is about: 
Our world
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