The Never Ending Fight Poem by Concetta Salter

Once at the age of just five,
I sat in the closet and cried.
I just couldn't dare watch the sight,
of the ones that I love as they fight.

Once at the age of just six,
I thought that i'd truly be sick.
I'd go in my room and just sit.
Praying this fight would be quick.

Once at the age of just seven,
I thought that I couldn't be mended.
In life I had learned my first lesson.
The screams and the shouts won't be ended.

Once at the age of just eight,
I learned what it felt like to hate.
It was hard just to look at his face.
Cause I knew deep inside he held rage.

Once at the age of just nine,
I felt like I wanted to die.
No longer did I even cry.
I kept all my tears deep inside.

Once at the age of just ten,
they asked me to whom I defend.
I gave them no answer back than.
So lost, so confused, not a friend.

Once at the age of eleven,
I wished I could turn back the seconds.
To have never been born would be splendid.
I wished god would offer me heaven.

Once at the age of just twelve,
I picked up the knife from the shelf.
In the mirror I looked at myself.
This life seemed more hurtful than hell.

Now at the age of thirteen,
I'm ready to set myself free.
I make sure the knife cuts me deep.
I die to the sound of there screams.