Ash Woods - Angel

With each hit, there’s a new bruise.
More to cover everyday.
With each punch, blood is shed.
Knocked unconscious everyday.
Beaten to death,
At the hands of family.
Midnight strikes,
And more blood is shed.
It’s the blood of an angel,
Who has finally risen above…

Ash Woods

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angel-170/