With closed tight fists he hits;
I screech in pain, and he smiles...
He pulls me by my hair;
Tears run down my face, but I do not grimace!
I topple off as he kicks;
I scream in jolts and he hits me more..
The closet pulled down and torn apart;
The shuddering glass.. my neighbours enquire!
I tell them 'I am alright..'
'Its pranks of my little son, not a fight!'
