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Every child deserves to be loved. Love isn't supposed to hurt.
There are children out there who really go through what I have written about here, and sadly, ends in the death of the child, or in the death of the parents by the child's hands. Hopefully someday we can save every child from this and teach them that real love don't hurt.

Submitted:Nov 5, 2008    Reads: 625    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   

she sits on the porch,
and looks up at the stars;
flipping up her collar,
hiding the scars.
As a young girl,
while sitting in school,
she often wondered
how life could be so cruel.
The memories of the past,
make her feel sad.
Remembering how
the beat her so bad.
Her parents were strict,
she was given no slack,
thier method of punishment
left scars on her back.
Thier vilence had left her,
with no will to fight.
No matter how hard she tried,
she could never do anything right.
So many times,
she prayed to God up above,
to please let her parents,
show her one taste of love.
Thier love for her,
she felt it had died,
they'd beat her some more,
if she sat and cried.
Through the process of time,
months turned to years.
It had been quite some time,
since she had cried any tears.
When she had time alone,
she so often cried;
no longer able
to bottle it all up inside.
The physical abuse
had left her ripped and torn,
and wondering why
she had ever been born.
A mother and daughter
should have some connection.
A mother's first thought,
should be about protection.
Everyday as her dad,
would walk out the door,
she came to realize
that she loved him no more.
That child to them
that was such an insult,
finally grew up
an emotionally scarred adult.
One day as her dad
walked in the door,
that young girl decided,
she would take it no more.
She valiantly fought
the urge to run.
Little did he know,
she had taken his gun.
Inside her mind,
her head was aching.
Her palms were sweaty,
her hands were shaking.
He stood in the kitchen
where a fat steak was cooking,
she put the gun to his head,
when he wasn't looking.
She didn't feel afraid,
she thought he was bigger;
swallowing hard,
she pulled the trigger.
Never again,
would he see the sun.
With blood on her hands,
she knew it was done.
The gun went off,
like a gigantic bomb.
As she closed her eyes,
and said goodby to her mom.
Returning to reality,
she finds her voice.
Through the tears she whispers,
'I had no choice.'
She no longer had
to aimlessly roam;
she no longer lived,
in a broken home.
she promises to never,
treat her kids like dirt.
She promises to teach them,
that love don't hurt.


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