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.
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