The Living Room

I am saddened by the sounds that I hear,
Tears falling to the floor,
Yells ripping pain-filled hearts,
Wind blowing through broken windows.

He stands over her with hate in his eyes,
She lies beneath his foot with fear in hers,
After such a sudden storm,
The room settles with silent rage.

He looked around at his work of art,
He is the Picasso of brutes,
His strokes had double meaning,
Impactful, colorful, and robust.

She tasted traces of her blood,
She was the babe of all babes,
Her cries longed for a different love,
Impactful, colorful, and robust.

They both wanted the same thing,
But went about it differently,
He sufficed, she suffered.
Sad sounds from what should be...the living room.

By Badilisho
http://ibwriting.blogspot.com