The daily email always brings us some joke or article from our friends...Some, more than others, make us sit up and take notice. A simple poem, author unknown, yet needing to be read:
DADDY It HURTS !
A TRUE STORY
My name is Chris
I am three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,
I must be stupid
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?
I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me.
I can't do a wrong
I can't speak at all
Or else I'm locked up
All day long.
When I'm awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home
When my mommy does come home
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll just get
One whipping tonight.
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charile's bar
I hear him curse
My name is called
I press myself
Against the wall
I try to hide
From his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry
He finds me weeping
Calls me ugly words,
He says it's my fault
He suffers at work
He slaps and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And run to the door
He's already locked it
And I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall
I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken,
"Im sorry!", I scream
But it's now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into an unimaginable shape
The hurt and the pain
Again and again
O please God, have mercy!
O please let it end!
And he finally stops
And heads for the door
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor
My name is Chris
I am three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.
> ARE YOU AGAINST CHILD ABUSE!
A TRUE STORY
My name is Chris
I am three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,
I must be stupid
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?
I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me.
I can't do a wrong
I can't speak at all
Or else I'm locked up
All day long.
When I'm awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home
When my mommy does come home
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll just get
One whipping tonight.
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charile's bar
I hear him curse
My name is called
I press myself
Against the wall
I try to hide
From his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry
He finds me weeping
Calls me ugly words,
He says it's my fault
He suffers at work
He slaps and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And run to the door
He's already locked it
And I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall
I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken,
"Im sorry!", I scream
But it's now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into an unimaginable shape
The hurt and the pain
Again and again
O please God, have mercy!
O please let it end!
And he finally stops
And heads for the door
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor
My name is Chris
I am three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.
> ARE YOU AGAINST CHILD ABUSE!
I received this horrific poem via email...with, sadly, no author's name. It reminded me of a story that Bettie and I read/edited a number of years ago. If you have an interest in this type of story, you may want to read:
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