Home

Run, hide, finding a place.
The hole I found, a kindly space.
I look around, shadows pass by.
So scared, heart pounding, I mustn't cry.
Sounds heard, steps taken, breathing so slightly.
Mind racing, wondering around by day and nightly.
Sneaking into my home to see.
The plate always left there for me.
Grabbing it, stuffing it into faded worn pockets.
On the wall, as I look, hanging mom's favorite locket.
Needing so much but not in that way.
For she's my mom and forever she'll stay.
I'll be back, as it all remains.
Peeking around as if playing a games.
Dad is gone, but there's another.
Using, abusing, striking my mother.
I'll be home soon probably tomorrow.
For in my heart, I carry a place, for her and the sorrow.

by Marlene Scheer

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