I regress

I see a small child,
Cowering in a corner,
I recognise his sweet face,
His diminutive stature,
Never accepted by his father,
Never loved by his mother,
His mischievous nature too much,
He hides there in anticipation of what’s to come, He shrinks further in to the corner not breathing or twitching, Her stone clad eye’s unerring in their mission,
No satisfaction until violence is done,
Slipper at the ready,
Locked and loaded,
Shrill voice reverberating through plasterboard walls, Shaking, tears will soon come,
Wishing to be somewhere else,
Wanting to be someone else,
Tears begin to roll and nose runs,
His angelic face changing,
Found and grabbed,
Burning pain shoot down his tender flesh,
Now he drifts away to a better place,
Red marks and tingling pain leaves it memory, Once more left to reminisce,
And wish bad things,
Mental scaring will remain well in to adulthood, Does she realise the monster she’s creating, Does she care,
His day will come of that he is sure,
He will have his revenge,
Then his satisfaction will be complete.

Wenge Picture frame, A4 aperture. More at Bespoke Woods Facebook page.

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