Roadtrip Poem by Bree Swart

Sitting here on my chair,
Peering in to the mirror,
My face I cannot bare.

I hate the person I turned out to be,
I hate the person you made me.

You drove me to this lonesome soul,
You hit me with that iron pole,
You wacked me with incredible thrust,
In you I can no longer trust.

All the pain you have enflicted,
All those words were sick and twisted,
You always say you take it back,
But im tired of always hearing that.

Im always in the wrong,
You say it's typical,
For peace I long,
Then you get physical.

You hit me, You hurt me, You make me bleed,
Your selfish, your violent, and filled with greed.
My soul is filled with hatred and sorrow,
You say never again, and hit me tomorrow.