Shhh be quiet, don't wake him up,
He's sleeping, and I've had enough
Ranting all day, like the devil himself,
He even broke my favorite bookshelf.
I knew not to cry, it was such a small thing,
And I can think of an excuse for that bruise from his ring.
The broken glass well that's what a broom is for,
and it was just a tiny amount of my blood spilled on the floor
I can take a walk to work the soreness out,
I just have a headache and cannot handle his shouts
I brush out hand full of pulled hair,
but it’s okay. Its way to thick, plenty to spare
Just please be quiet for a little while more,
Perhaps he will be in a better mood, or at least that's what I am hoping for.
If you wake him before he has enough sleep,
Then I shiver as the phone rings.
© Cynthia Clark