Apples and pears

When she came
he came
always the same
quick to blame.
Shout and yell
again enclosed in their twisted cell
Had I died and this was hell!

Bullied to bed.
my hand from earlier...throbbing red.
Up those apples and pear's
pushing and thumping
in his pinstripe flares.

An where was she?
She was meant, to come, and care.
Not be one of an evil pair.

Not a soul, or my mother I told.
I was only four, or five years old
reminiscing can feel cold.