The Day the walls cried out

Slowly she walked through the door, And the walls cried out. There lay a lifeless body on the floor. At first the walls whisper, but then they have to shout. “Can’t you hear what they’re trying to say?” Says a shaky voice in the corner. A little child hidden away. Her eyes then filled with tears, For she knew what the child had seen. “Did you ever see the walls cry tears of blood?” Said the innocent child, with eyes pale green. She looked up to see the crimson flood. The walls scream and scream. Trying to tell the story of the gruesome deed. Of a husband who loved his wife with violence. A punch a day, was his daily drunken creed. How a wife boar such pain in silence. The world is deaf, to the battered women’s pleas. “Can‘t you hear what they trying to say?” The walls cry out once more She takes the child into her arms She washes his face with a waterfall of tears Trying to erase the images from his mind Her ears now zinging From the deafening sound Why had she not heard them before? “They tried to tell you, but you did not hear Maybe if you did then she’d still be here.” Child in her arms she walked out the door There lay a lifeless body on the floor And the walls cried out. Note: This poem was inspired by a woman know. Her husband was abusive in the early years of her marriage, but they have since apparently work out their problems. She would always say to me after visitors who thought highly of her husband had left - 'if these walls could talk, people would not believe the things that this man did'. In writing this poem i wondered what the walls would say - and also thought that perhaps the walls do talk, but we usually choose not to interfere and ignore it.