Out the door and I never came back
I walked away when you gave me a slap
I stayed because I thought you would change
people would judge and say that I'm strange.
I packed my things and I said goodbye
you begged and plead and you asked me why
the times you walked with your head up high
you beat me whenever I wouldn't comply.
The marks and bruises on my face
you looked at me and I didn't see grace
again and again, you would say that I'm mean
though I struggled alone behind the scenes.
I walked away with nothing I owned
out the door and your secret was blown
the marks and bruises you gave to my face
I walked out the door and got me some grace.




© Josiah Bhola Hillaire