Sweet Dreams

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Sweet Dreams

I cater to every call,

Him standing over me tall.

My own father would kill me,

But not in ways anyone can see.

Verbal, I believe, is abuse in it's worst,

More effecting than any other curse.

He wishes I'd be dying,

Broken angel flying.

I dance to escape my life,

Wondering when he'll pull the knife.

So for now I live in fear,

When I'm dead don't mourn for me, my dear.

For when the next time he screams,

I'll be off, sleeping with Heaven's sweet dreams...

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