Two Years, Two Lives.

Silently crying inside,
Anxiety devours her,
As she hopelessly fears
That just around the corner
You grotesquely lurk,
Knife in hand, eyes raging,
Darkness consuming.
Physically her body
Shakes and heaves
At the thought of leaving
The only place she feels safe,
To never be apart
Of the world again.

You tormented
And terrorised.
Physically assaulted,
Mentally plagued,
Emotionally scarred
The boy who innocently
Loved the girl you wanted.
To the point he tried to end
Your vile vindictive pleasure
By ending everything!

You think you are a victim,
“Oh it was my failed education,
My friends for giving me smack!
My mother, my father,
Santa fucking clause!”
Everyone, but yourself,
Claiming remorse,
For the fear you injected
into others like the drugs
You injected into yourself.

And where did it get you?
For the next two years
You will be behind bars,
In the big house, incarcerated,
Intimately Bubba’s bitch!
Yet somehow we both know
It will only make you worse,
Twist and warp the disfigured
Ghoul that has inherited your life.
The monster will rise
Once more to devour.

Two lives destroyed,
Two years in prison,
Jean Valjean stole bread
For his starving family,
19 years he served!
Where are the blind
Scales of justice now?
Her sword should
Cut more deeply!

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Poem © Phen Weston

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