Melissa

Long sleeves throughout the summer, in retrospect, should have been a clue,
Covering up her dainty, fragile arms tattooed in black and blue.
I thought her reserved disposition was just because she’s kind of shy,
Until I saw her wearing sunglasses to cover up a new black eye.
Her husband was the sheriff, feared by all in town;
Now I’m serving a life sentence for taking the coward down.

His anger got the best of him, right in the middle of our town square,
As coincidence would have it, I just happened to be right there.
He slapped her for interrupting, then punched her when she slapped back;
I was on my way to a softball game, carrying my aluminum bat.
When he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to his car,
With everyone simply staring, I stepped in to say he’d gone too far.

He said, “Mind your own business, before I throw your ass in jail”;
When he started reaching for his service gun, I heard Melissa try to yell.
It was my best swing of the season, a homerun you can be sure;
The sheriff of our little town would be battering his wife no more.
She visits me on Sundays; a three hour drive, at least, each way;
She wears short sleeves now in summer, so I’ve nothing else to say.

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