• This is my life,
    And nothing less,
    Eternally filled, with fear and stress.

    My Dad’s insane,
    And beats me so bad,
    That I can’t remember, the life I once had.

    I live in fear,
    That he’ll end my life,
    And I’ll have to face, The Reaper with scythe.

    I try to escape,
    My room is a prison,
    I try to move, a sound is arisen.

    A tiny creak,
    An awful roar,
    Angry Dad, runs through the door.

    He grabs my arm,
    And whirs me round,
    And with his fist, he begins to pound.

    He grabs my throat,
    And holds it tight,
    He starts to grin, his eyes alight.

    A pleading eye,
    A quivering lip,
    I begin to hope, His hold will slip,

    My face is white,
    My bloods run cold,
    He shifts a bit, for tighter hold

    The world’s a blur,
    I cannot breathe,
    I fall limp, and my soul slowly leaves.

    Immune to pain,
    Because I’m dead,
    I finally escaped the life that I lead.