by Carla Stephens

Created on: November 18, 2008

Time to get away

I often sit and wonder,
what will happen if I stay?
I often sit and ponder,
about the good old days.
Now I sit and dream of how different things could be,
if I could muster up the courage and finally get away.

I remember when he'd hold my hand,
and love me in every way,
when nothing that I said or did would make him curse or jeer,
he would twist my hair and kiss me,
not shout at me or hit me.

Now bruises come and bad moods go,
but memories rarely fade,
so look around and truly see all others you pass each day,
and think of all it can be,
now it's time to get away.

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