As she dries herself off from the shower she took to wash the blood away.
Now she stands there nude she gazes upon her body that has been battered and bruised.
He told her when he met her that she was one of God's works of art.
He promised that he would love her with all his heart.
Well love her he did.
But his love came with a secret that he hid.
The secret was he loved her so much that he had to punch her in the face.
He told her it was her fault for not staying in her place.
Sadly she believes him and says sorry I will try to do better next time.
You see he has convinced her that it her fault in her own mine.
And every time he punches her he tells her that he is sorry and it won't happen again.
But it keeps happening like there is no end.
Now here she stands a work of art where anger is its muse.
She's a work of art known as the art of abuse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem