When I Was Young

When I was young I used to stand, 

beside a man and hold his hand. 

I used to feel so safe you see. 

With him beside, my heart set free. 

But slowly, as I, did start, to grow, 

the man, I did, then get, to know. 

A shallow man with no esteem, 

no pity in his eyes that gleamed. 

A vicious man who loved to beat, 

he lived his life, drunk in retreat. 

I dropped his hand and edged away. 

I knew that I could never stay. 

I left him stand upon his own, 

as I did venture out alone. 

I found my way to this new nest, 

a mortal wound inside my breast. 

I found new hands all warm with love, 

and decided time to rise above. 

I now live life as best I can, 

to grow into a better man.