I was home alone.
My uncle,
He came to ask for newspaper,
Everyday,
When mom went for a walk.
He came home.
I never understood why,
He had to read that newspaper,
In my house,
At that particular hour.
But one day,
My focus shifted to his hand,
And his hand to my chain.
That chain on my neck,
Never felt that chain so heavy,
Never felt my house so lonely.
Everyday,
The same story,
Same uncle, same newspaper,
Same chain, same hand.
Until one day,
I threw that chain,
At his face and my parents saw,
They never asked, I never told.
He never came back,
And finally I was out of that hell.
-