Hit it again,
that love in her heart
that hope in her mind
all the while he remains abusive, unkind.
The blood drips on the inside
not a mark shown
no, he wouldn't dare
his methods are those of a coward:
to threat, control and scare
She'll justify it -
it was her fault,
"he's been drinking again"
or
"it's just the way of men".
So it continues for years
never speaking her fears.
No one to confide in,
no one would understand.
I only wish she could see - my outstretched hand
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