She went for a walk she needed to talk
She cleared up the mess she was in distress
She scrubbed all the floor she did all her chores
She prayed for a day his demons be at bay, maybe she could run away
She went for a walk, but she needed to talk
She made a mean roast so happy he’d boast
She’d say the wrong thing he’d give her a swing
Her eyes would now shine it was a damn crime
She’d go for a walk but what she really needed was to talk
Perhaps his misogyny would skip their progeny
If she stayed she could protect them, pick up the pieces, keep it all nice, be quiet as mice, it’s that or he’d slice.
She’d go for a walk but she could no longer talk
Her dreams of escape now made her quake her captor he was quite the actor
She’d go for a walk….
I wrote this poem about all the people stuck in abusive relationships during lockdown and beyond, I’d been reading so many heart-wrenching accounts the words just spewed out of me.