Once at the age of just five, <br />I sat in the closet and cried. <br />I just couldn't dare watch the sight, <br />of the ones that I love as they fight. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just six, <br />I thought that i'd truly be sick. <br />I'd go in my room and just sit. <br />Praying this fight would be quick. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just seven, <br />I thought that I couldn't be mended. <br />In life I had learned my first lesson. <br />The screams and the shouts won't be ended. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just eight, <br />I learned what it felt like to hate. <br />It was hard just to look at his face. <br />Cause I knew deep inside he held rage. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just nine, <br />I felt like I wanted to die. <br />No longer did I even cry. <br />I kept all my tears deep inside. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just ten, <br />they asked me to whom I defend. <br />I gave them no answer back than. <br />So lost, so confused, not a friend. <br /> <br />Once at the age of eleven, <br />I wished I could turn back the seconds. <br />To have never been born would be splendid. <br />I wished god would offer me heaven. <br /> <br />Once at the age of just twelve, <br />I picked up the knife from the shelf. <br />In the mirror I looked at myself. <br />This life seemed more hurtful than hell. <br /> <br />Now at the age of thirteen, <br />I'm ready to set myself free. <br />I make sure the knife cuts me deep. <br />I die to the sound of there screams.<br /><br />Concetta Neville<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-never-ending-fight-2/
