It was such a cold and stormy winter day.
She had no bed to sleep, no place to stay.
Scrambled in a dark corner, in hand, a gas lighter,
She was cold and weak, no longer a big fighter.
Grasped a few pieces of a branch to burn,
Oh, this cruel life gave her many things to learn.
A bit of heat touched her cold fingers.
There in the sky, what a sad memory lingers.
This gas lighter reminded her of that gaslighting.
She wonders if she went crazy, her nails biting.
This little lighter reminded her of emotional abuse.
Her arms and back still hurts with all that bruise.
That man had left her feeling dazed, in stunned silence,
Oh God! How terrible it was, that unending violence.
Her perception of reality and memories float in deep seas.
She questions her insanity, in cold, waiting on her knees.
She thought of the moments wearing her down over time
So much she was neglected, yet blamed for all the crime.
Desperately she walked away in search of another corner.
How bad it was to feel, even in her home, to be a foreigner.
Blatant lies were told, everything said was to deny.
So often she thought to herself better die
No action of that narcissist matched his words.
Would it be so hard if she could fly as free as those birds?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem