Rain would not be broken as she huddled in the shelter
In the darkened alley carport where the car could not be seen.
His anger had been burning like a lightning bolt to melt her,
But with arms around her children she could feel what love should mean.
She never understood it when his fists were there to blame her
For imaginary doings or a look he misconstrued.
Days she couldn't see it coming and the neighbors seemed to frame her
In a glance of disapproval when her face was black and blue.
If they ever heard her screaming, they did not seem to know it
And fingers pointed toward her never touched the nine one one.
Sometimes the deaf and blindness causes heroes just to blow it
And disreguards the misery through actions gone undone.
Her husband wore no t-shirts and her home was not a trailer,
Still the dream of picket fences had been shattered in a whirl
Of obscenities and crying and a fear of being failure
Until he threatened little Amy. She was just a baby girl.
Then a mother's love would surpass any fear and any sorrow
And she fled the drunken stupor in the extra family car.
While the children now were sleeping, there would come tomorrow
With the fear of finding solace safely somewhere away far.
As the storm subsided she would drive a little further
And hope to find some safety at the end of this long night.
For Rain would not be broken in the end that would unearth her
From the terror of abuses and her freedom's born of flight.