Actual Trash (Art Book)

this isn't art but...it made me sad

A poem about child abuse

My name is Lucifer

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 Charlies 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,

"I'm sorry!", I scream

But its 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

Brawled on the floor

My name is Lucifer

I am three,

Tonight my daddy

Murdered me

Now I roam the underworld

To help those in need

I may seem evil,

But I'm not.

And if you read this

And don't pass it on

I pray for your forgiveness

Because you would have to be
One heartless person

To not be effected

by this poem

And because you are affected

Do  something about it!

So all I ask you to do

Is pass this on!

-----------

It's sad