Times are hard without a doubt
My problems mount and I cannot count
I’m cooped inside with these dark thoughts
I’m bored, annoyed and come across
Resentful,angry and always cross
It’s not my fault I made her cry
I sometimes think that I should die
I hit her hard, she did accuse
So I let it rip,it’s called abuse
She hit her head and then she fell
The police came and I tried to pretend
That all was well,that it’s not a trend
But truth be told,it stopped me cold
That I should fold and lose control
And put myself inside this hole
I’m looking back ,I’m immature
And know for sure I need a cure
I see it now, I can’t ignore
It’s shaken me to the core
And left me suddenly so unsure
Through all this shame,
I take the blame
It’s all my fault I do admit
I know it now, please God permit
Another chance, A better way
Better way.Copyright (c) . Maryann Bosah 2020.All rights reserved .
MARYANN BOSAH 