"ONE MORE SHOT!" he yelled,
ten til' close the bartender said,
as his soul, the bartender willingly fed.
daddy came home late that night,
like all the rest.
i sat up in the darkness,
hearing the rapid beating of my chest.
mommy and daddy argued,
and mommy and daddy fought,
they just did not know that this time they'd get caught.
i watched in pure fear,
as daddy slapped mommy hard,
i heard the screams and nasty names,
and heard her called "retard."
but tonight was somewhat of a different atmosphere,
mommy did not take his crap,
and showed little sign of fear.
she reached over to her left,
and i saw her slip the blade,
in her hand, behind her back,
from on the counter which it laid.
she could not take it anymore,
she slowly pulled it out.
i will never forget this moment,
i thought mommy would take a different route.
she drew it to daddy's throat,
and said "i'm sorry, hun"
but before she made her move,
he pulled out his handgun.
he got really mad, threw some insults,
and even spit in her face,
he checked the room for evidence,
you know- just in case.
his finger on the trigger,
ready to make a mistake,
all ready for a chance,
seeming so risky to take.
i could not take this anymore,
ready to watch mommy die,
so i ran in the middle of them,
and softly began to cry.
but daddy could not stop,
it was already too late,
his finger hit the trigger,
what a twist of fate.
i felt pain rush through my body,
to escape it i surely tried,
but with one last breath,
i collapsed on the kitchen floor,
and died.
the media followed the story,
evidence was found not,
the next day the newspaper police report,
simply read "ONE MORE SHOT."