She Cries.

She cowers in a corner
as he looms over her,
a bottle of amber
in his left hand,
his right poised to strike.

"Please" she begs
"not in front of the kids."
"f-ck you" he spits
and breaks her nose
with a single blow.

"Bastard" she cries
but only under her breath.
"B -tch, whore" as he tries
to dredge up every filthy
word he can summon.

The children wide eyed
and afraid cling to her as
he kicks her in her face
shattering her cheekbone
then at last he turns away.

She's bitten through her lip
and cannot talk so the boy
ten years old fetches her
mobile so he can ask for
help from someone … anyone

But no one comes cos who
wants to get involved in
domestic violence?
it's a private thing isn't it?
so she cries.

If you reformatted this it would be prose. Poetry isn't just a matter of breaking up sentences and paragraphs into the shape of a poem.

H

Very meaningful. The ending is very applicable. I agree with H in that you could do a good job in prose format. The only problem is that poetry allows you to go from peak to peak while in prose you will have to expand some valleys.

Prose poetry would suit this very well....

I do find the subject very sad and hate to admit it happens on a daily basics....but you have expressed it well.

kittypaws