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A home
Built with concrete blocks and cement
Which almost seems to be serene
But inside, lay broken souls
Souls of terrified children
Who wish to seek help;
And I wish help would come soon
Sooner than a punch thrown to the head,
Sooner that words pierced throught the heart
And sooner than a helpless child gasping for
his last breath
As he lays lifeless on the cold kitchen floor,
With blood slowly dripping onto the tiles
Nothing won't seem to matter
Because it's just one less life to worry about
And a house isn't considered a home
Until love and peace enter through the door
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I wrote this piece because there were so many incidents where parents would abuse/neglect their child(ren) on the island that I live on.