The lights are on
and I am home,
unfortunately.

There’s a
rap tap
knock knock:
someone.

Outside shines night
and birds sing silence.
The moment grows
and I cower.

Anger fills
and fuels the house.
Violence follows
like an erupting volcano.

Children don’t work like adults.
We have less to fear;
but ours is double concentrated.

There’s a
smick smack
crick crack:
was someone.

The lights are on
but I’m not home,
hopefully.