Soapy dish water grabbed at her arms as she submerged the grotty crockery into the murky water.
The stars out the window enlightened the remnants of the once golden horizon.
As the warm liquid gushed like a waterfall into the sink, a big black shadow was bursting to get in.
Rustling of keys echoed down the hallway, a huge crash sounded as the figure stumbled in.
The stench of alcohol and cigars reeked from his stained lips.
Yells screeched through the house, his anger boiled over, another empty beer bottle in his hand.
The distorted shape edged into the peaceful room where his wife was busy with the remains from her dinner.
He waddled over to the cold box where his happiness had run dry, causing the volcano to erupt.
Pulling her away from her duties, he grabbed her and shook her, till she lay in a heap on the cold tiles.
Terror paraded across her face as she lay, beaten, battered and bruised.
Wives, mothers, lovers and friends,
You’ve been mistreated for so long.
Your cries have echoed throughout the era,
Your voices have been so strong.
Your voices have changed the hearts of others.
Your voices sung out loud,
‘Violence is never the answer,’
And for that you should be proud.