The Sunday Newspaper Read.....

He came home,
8 in the evening...
played basketball, 
shortest of the lot..
It was the same scene,
so obscene,
it had lately become a routine...

God give him strength,
before evil breaks into his head...

The man had a fluffy body,fat face
must have drunk beer,
till his stomach ached..
Bruises on his cheek,
a brawl in the bar maybe,
is what the boy conceived..

The hand that had fallen swiftly,
on his sight,
had a metal bar,
did he dare strike???
Full of terror,
She was huddled in that corner,
The single drop of blood on her split lip,
shone brightly across her face,
white in fear...

what fate!!!
The boy shouldn't have cared....

"My Jordan's back home,
give him some cookies,
Oh mother of his";
how quickly did she wipe her tears,
that beautiful smile he loved the most,
how much it hides,
he now realised...

She limbed across, 
the iron was hot,
He swore,
if the man had laughed...
As she brought her water,
he saw her eyes,
those tears that had dried....

He was full of rage,
evil had finally arrived....

Sunday morning newspaper read,
"12 year old shoots father"
who's guilty, 
you are the judge......



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