Day After Day
In the morning
when the sun comes up,
I always wake
up and see the shining light,
glowing
through the shades,
of my broken
walls
Going throw
the hall,
following my
soul knowing it will hurt,
seeing my
father's eyes on a cup,
fill up with
the sourest liquor
My mamma on
the floor,
pouring out
tears of blood,
with violet
blossoms all over her face,
and two deep
holes that watch me with no clue
Open the
doorway,
obeying my
soul again,
seeking for
help our a place to stay,
knowing that
home is hell
Day after day,
the story
repeats itself,
with no ending
at all, running in circles,
and ending at
home again.
By Manuela Orozco, Step 10
