Battered, bruised, lower lip swollen,
One red eye, the other won’t open,
Unending fear, damage and destruction,
Two broken ribs and a jaw reconstruction
Forever running, trying to hide,
Her trembling heart refuses to stay inside,
Shivers running down her spine,
She dreads the moment the clock strikes nine.
I remember crouching, cowering on the floor,
As I hear the creak in our rickety main door,
She gets up and runs all around the house,
In a futile attempt to get away from her spouse
Covering the bruises on her left hand,
She hides her fate, shaped as a wedding band,
A husband by name, a monster in disguise,
As he steps in at nine, a part of her dies
Oh, how many times she wished for death,
For the haggard hiss to be her last breath,
But luck refused to side her way,
It tortured and terrified her, until today
I watch as she sleeps, closing her eyes,
As the smelly room is echoing with cries,
What’s good luck for one can be bad for the other,
I realize that as I gaze at my dead mother
Alone in this world, with nowhere to go,
There’s no means to live, no one I know,
After years of struggle, she’s set herself free,
But she left something behind, something called me.
By the time the clock strikes nine, I’m the only one,
Today, for once in her life , my mother doesn’t get up to run,
But the door doesn’t open either, no one storms inside,
And I’m left sitting alone in the dark, sleepy but wide eyed.
I stare longingly at her face, peaceful at last,
Knowing moments with her are now in the past,
I won’t feel her love and her care anymore,
I know I shall never be as happy as I was before.
With great relief, at the break of dawn, her soul rises up high,
Leaving me here, alone, without a chance to say goodbye,
What’s good luck for one can be bad luck for the other,
But that’s okay, because now I finally have a happy mother.