Abuse

In the prime of her life,
Beauty is her weapon,
To abuse, she is the wife,
His favorite toy, His possession,
But don’t worry she finds comfort in her knife,

Daddy please don’t she begs,
As his fist draws another hit,
Downing at least a keg,
She pretends it doesn’t hurt a bit,
She’ll find comfort in a cut, 

His way of love,A punch, a drink,
 maybe a shove,
He’s drunk and can’t think is his excuse,
She a victim of his abuse,
Her blade, her only escape of any use,
 
All alone,
Blood runs down from her wrist,
She just wants to be done,
Just to end the whole gist,
Tears fall while she bleeds, 

Would be such much easier just to die,
Than suffer the pain of living,
Life is such a lie,
Why must I suffer breathing?
She whispers, bleeding, 

Suicide,
Seems oh so sweet,
Hell she will pay,
But much better than this life of deceit,
Dead she will lay,

A pen and paper in hand,
A note just for him,
Slipped under his drunken head,
Explain so the truth wasn’t dim,
She has her knife,  

He, not really passed out,
Wakes before the deed is done,
Reading the note he shouts,
I won’t have a suicide done,
Grabs a gun, 

He killed his daughter,
Shot her with his gun,
Oh what a great father,
She lays dead, hun,
She got her wish, an end