Drinker, Drug user,
Completely, A loser..
You punch, You kick,
Aggressively, You hit,
Making me feel sick,
Whilst dealing out shit..
Smash my head, on another floor,
Or perhaps, against another door..
Making me, feel insecure,
Like the many times,
You had before..
My bruised body,
Many broken bones..
The blood stains left,
In our many homes..
All the tears, All the years,
All the pain, again and again..
All the downgrading names,
For you, nothing but games..
But at last, This days arrived,
As a safehouse I move in..
Just so thankful, I survived,
So my new life, can begin..
But the fear, Still in my head,
Memories, still very haunting..
Feeling blessed, I am not dead,
The court case, very daunting..
Then at last, we reached that day,
You were sentenced, put away..
Custodial sentence, many years,
But, that doesn’t cure my fears..
Cos, it’s always on my mind,
Of the nights, I’ve left behind..
But I try, Being the best I can,
Someone stronger, a better man..
As I move on, with my new life,
Old one destroyed, by my ex- wife..–Stevan Lyman