A Doll called Peaches.
- C. J. Black.
The voice at the end of the telephone line
Faceless, continued the weeping and crying
He thought he could read me like an open book
The tremor in her voice left me totally dumbstruck.
I tried my utmost to calm the situation
I knew not who the caller was, nor would she reveal her location
Explaining to her that her call was not in vain
And that I would listen for as long as she wished – once it eased her pain.
He had beaten her to within an inch of her life she said
All was good the night before as we laid on our wedding bed
Suddenly, as though taken over by the devil
My husband turned from lover into a man of evil.
The more she talked the calmer she became
I told her who she was talking to, she revealed her name
An hour had passed or maybe more
When a loud banging could be heard on her bedroom door.
Raised voices could be heard coming down the telephone line
Recognising those voices she assured me – all now will be fine
Just then the line went dead – there was no more I could do –
Be assured, this has been a fictitious poem – not one word of it is true.
- C. J. Black©β
Wednesday, 29 July 2015