This is a story about child abuse...
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 mummy,
Would still want to hug me.
I can't do a right,
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 mummy does come home,
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll just get,
One beating tonight.
I just heard a car,
My daddy is back,
From Barry's bar
He might get the sack
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 kicks and hits me,
And yells some 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,
Hard against the wall.
I fall to the floor,
With all my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues,
More bad words spoken.
'I'm 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 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.
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Unknown
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