Almost Eighteen

Something I wrote after I had a fight with my dad the other day.

Almost Eighteen


It was a tragedy that struck me that day,
as I was walking along my merry way.

I rounded up at a cold and dark alley.
Not once, expecting what would happen to me.

Back at the house, everyone was waiting for
the crazy, cheerful girl to open the door.

I was taken by surprise, a hand grabbed me
from the very depths of that dark, cold alley.

His sharp, leering eyes surveyed me up and down.
Then, with one swift swing, I was brought to the ground.

They were all prepared; food, music, tasty cake.
The latter, her sweet sister lovingly baked.

I lay there, pale and weak, eyes shining with tears.
My life flashing before me-- seventeen years.

Fear did not even register on my face.
It had been quick, in seconds, pain erased.

Back at that house, no one was there anymore.
Been a year since the police opened that door.

I stood outside this warm home looking after,
my happy family's bright smiles and laughter.

They have forgotten all about foolish me.
Walked in alive, then out dead from that alley...



...11 syllables per line...