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    You came to me angry one night,
    we cursed, argued, and begin to fight.
    I remember you slapping my face,
    and you saying that should put me in my place.

    I remember feeling your feet on my chest, and I couldnt believe I was now in that column with all the rest.

    I remember thinking this cant be happening to me, and I remember say that, that will never be me.

    I remember the gun going off when I was standing in the shower, and holding my ears because the gun had so much power.

    I still see those two bullet holes in my shower wall, I still feel how my legs refused to let me fall.

    I remember you kicking and beating me; it as if it lasted an enternity; but in reality it was only three.

    I remember limping the next day wondering why in the hell did I stay.

    I remember begging you to stop and not hit me again, but that was followed with a slap to my face with an evil grin.

    After you was tired, you laid your head down and went to sleep.
    I remember sitting in that chair where I silently weeped.

    I remember you lying asleep in our bed, and me putting that gun to your head; wishing and praying that I had the courage to kill you dead.

    The next day I awoke with my ego bruised, and my soul crushed, wishing I had of pulled that trigger and created that satisfying rush.

    With a bruised ego, demolished soul, and a huge bruise on my leg, I prayed for another chance for you to watch me kill you dead.

    I remember being afraid to walk by you, because I was too afraid of what you might do.

    I remember hearing you brag to your friends about how I screamed and cried for that night to end.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    MsTae’s Poems (7)

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