Be kind... I am still getting used to writing after my stroke. It’s so hard but a friend’s experience prompted this one . Assisted technology sounds bizarre  reading back such a sensitive topic. I hope it still works as a poem. 

 

Gas light

 

It’s not a street light. 

It’s so hard to see. 

So unaware,

It frightens me. 

 

I’m not worth it.

Am I to blame? 

Is it my fault? 

It’s part of his game.

 

He has got me convinced,

Controlled and coerced,

Unable to cope 

Time must reverse. 

 

Neglected my self,

Lost my self worth,

Created a shadow, 

Weakness gave birth. 

 

I knew I should leave, 

He tells me I can’t, 

He twisted my friends 

Magician enchant. 

 

He cries like a baby,

Claims it’s for love

Smashes belongings

Boxer no glove.

 

His temper is fiery

His rage bites my heart.

There is no escape. 

I blame Cupid’s dart. 

 

I need to be strong, 

Keep him away, 

It’s not that easy,

Despite what they say.

 

You have to have been there.

You have to know how. 

To break away clearly,

strength will allow.