shorty20 Posted October 4, 2005 Share Posted October 4, 2005 I sit in my room With darkness all around And all I can hear Is the horrific sound I hear heavy footsteps Above me upstairs And I pray to God That he'll hear my prayers Please make it stop Please make it go away But subside it does not So I continue to pray I know he's been drinking I can hear it in his walk I hear some glass shatter And in my mind I try to block I block out all the words All the hateful things he said And my fright starts to grow As I sit on my bed I hear my mom scream Hear a thud against the wall And I pray harder to God Please, answer my call Don't let him hurt her Please, not this time Don't let him get away With yet another crime I want to intervene Want to help my mom so But to do this Would be my fate, I know My hear starts beating faster I'm feeling quite strong I can stop him this time I pray that I'm not wrong I run from my room Sprinting up the stairs And with them I forget About all of my cares The only thing on my mind Is to save my mom, his wife Even if it means To sacrifice my life I run at him from behind Grabbing at his neck My mom's huddled in the corner She looks an awful wreck Her eyes grow with horror As he throws me to the ground I'm trying, I'm fighting But my fate I have found He stomps to the closet And pulls out his gun My feet are frozen to the ground But my mind's telling me to run In a final selfless effort I leap to cover her And as the bullet hits My world becomes a blurr I fall to the ground I'm slipping away My mom's begging, pleading Please, try to stay I grab her hand in mine And look deep into her eyes As I comfort her cries We say our last goodbyes Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
2cute2bstressed Posted October 7, 2005 Share Posted October 7, 2005 wow that is very touching i cant help but ask where did this theme come from Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
shorty20 Posted October 8, 2005 Author Share Posted October 8, 2005 I honestly don't know... when I started writing, I was very angry with my dad.... my writing is the way I vent, but half the time, I just get a pen and paper, and my mind does the rest... i don't know where alot of my writing comes from... is that weird?? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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