I\'m known as the house, filled with love and happiness,
With a loving mom and dad, children playing, making a mess.
Many loving years went by, then mom and dad passed away,
the grown kids all married, the house was sold today.
It seemed in a short time, a new family moved in,
although something about them, gave me such a bad feeling.
Nothing was like before, when the arguments started within day\'s,
the threats, the violence daily, no love, I\'m so amazed.
My walls absorbed the echoes, of her nightly frightened screams,
hate filled every inch of my house, so it seems.
Her blood permanently stained, my once beautiful wooden floors,
then there are the fist-holes, damaging my once antique doors.
My staircase once so loving, polished to a beautiful shine,
blood-soaked from him beating her, when filled with his wine.
My windows would constantly rattle, with the level of his wrath,
I fear I will never recover, from his violent aftermath.
Hate fills every inch, from my roof to frame
I just want you to know,he\'s to blame
Now, there is no love, in the terror filled home,
after him killing her, than himself, I\'m once again all alone.
For years a loving house, family loved day and night,
Forever more, I\'ll be remembered, only as the crime-scene site.
Written by Angela Hutcherson-Jenkins