Nature Of Violence Poem by Mozafar Ali

The bell rings.
It’s fight night all over again,
Here comes the red fist,
Full of blood and anger.
His knuckles like four combined conkers on a lace,
Connect my face.
Followed with another and more,
Out powered by a monster and nowhere to run,
Because he locked the door.
A nature of violence in his blood.
As I curl up on the floor.
His foot banging against my legs and stomach,
Stamping me dead. Black eye and bruised.
As I smell the booze,
My father’s been at it again.
Tears exit my eyes like a waterfall,
Streaming towards my ear.
No wonder now every time I hear the door bell,
My whole body trembles with fear.