He hates me and the clothes I wear,

He shouts and pulls at my shinny hair.

Tea on the plate, beer on the table,

My life is hell and I’m disabled.

My hobbies are gone and my nick-knacks too,

On my own locked between four walls,

I can’t even answer when my friends knock or call.

I think about freeing my lonely soul,

All this misery has taken its toll.

But I am week and can’t end my hell,

Locked away in a shattered shell.

Please control your anger; control your fists,

Remember the first time we met and kissed.