It hurt to sit there,
And wait for him to walk away.
Sure,
There were a lot of people watching,
But if he could have taken the first step out,
I could have helped him.
Instead,
He just stood there,
Like a statue,
Waiting for her to come at him again,
When he couldn’t fight her back,
Because the justice system,
Would always somehow find the man guilty,
Even when he wasn’t.
I hated what she was doing to him,
The bruises,
The cuts,
The swellings,
I hated it all.
He had always been handsome,
But the man looking at me in that hallway,
Was battered and bruised,
You’d think he spent his whole life,
Working at a quarry,
That had regular landslides,
A horrible pay
And was the only way,
For him to earn a living.
I had told him to leave,
That she wasn’t worth it,
But his response each time,
Killed a part of me.
He was always quick to defend her,
Quick to stay for her,
Yet each time,
She broke a part of him.
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