Broken Home Poem by Torence Lavender

He was a man of few words says the few short letters he's written her apologizing.
The silence brought death upon their love whispers the gentle breeze that rustles their curtains.
Making the only neutral sound between them.

The anger bottled up explodes.

No more happiness says the faded pictures smiling back.
The empty bottle says he's lied again.
The bruises on her face and back says she lost another round.
Her suitcase at the end of the stairs says she's really leaving this time.
'I'll stop, I mean it this time', says the broken man.
But there's no one there to listen anymore in this broken home.