One tough lady
She thought she heard his voice in the hallway [just] outside
of her apartment so she immediately found a place to hide
It was a place reserved for those things that many people keep
a solo beach lounge chair, all the junk was piled deep
With a measly bit of force she left the settlement alone
forcing every muscle to move with every bone.
She could hear him mouthing off to the gentleman next door
calling him a OMW, acronym for old-man-whore
She knew the power of his words would make the man just cry
but she quickly ambled out the door, her only chance to fly
She made it to her car with only seconds more to spare
When she saw him start to run towards her with a nasty, evil glare
She put the car in drive and escaped his scary trap
and went right to the police house to tell them of his crap.
The cops were so confused as to why she stayed so long
She simply told the policeman there she was trying to stay strong.
They drove out to her place and saw him lying on the ground
someone definitely shot him, the gun made little to no sound.
No body witnessed anything and they said he had no friends
And this is where the story of abuse will surely end.
©2023 CBialczak poetry
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