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Battered Child

Poetry By: MassThinker
Poetry



It's something children don't deserve, nobody does.


Submitted:Jan 17, 2012    Reads: 56    Comments: 14    Likes: 4   


Written by | MassThinker

I was once a child staring into my mothers eyes.

They were sparkling harmless and with comfort.

I touched my mother's soft face and played with her ears.

They were cozy and helped me fall to sleep at nights.

I was hers own little precious masterpiece innocent and unaware.

I was embraced with unconditional love.

I touched my mother's soft face only to perceive that the softness had gone away.

I witnessed her face features bruised and swollen.

I looked into her frightened eyes of tears.

I've watched my father grow into a being that sat upon a throne.

A man blaming his traumatized past.

There's no excuse in that.

...

I've shed tears and a grand river has been formed.

I've held a blade against my throat with thoughts of salvation in mind.

I survived through most of hard times created by the acts of one pathetic man.

A man whose heart was so numb that his knuckles fell on the ones he loved.

...

I have today grown into a man aware of the consequences of mistreat.

I sometimes glance down on my own knuckles they're immense and sharp.

I see the resemblance in our hands I can't hold back I have to ask.

Is there a time and place in this life when I too turn out to be?

The same dreadful man produced by his father's hate.

I then beg for them times to vanish and die.





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