by Steve Woodman
What did you get for Christmas?
Was it something nice?
I'm sitting here in Casualty,
My face is packed with ice.
I dread it every Christmas,
They never give me toys,
Daddy will get drunk again,
His nights out with the boys.
I know he doesn't mean it,
He's far to drunk to know,
He hits me hard for nothing,
And bruises always show.
A Christmas to remember,
The policemen had to call,
They took my Dad away this time,
He said I'd had a fall.
He's really done it this time,
An ambulance had to come,
That's why I'm sitting here in Casualty,
Waiting with me Mum.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poems
PoésieThese are not my poems I will put the poets name. I only put this as mature because of self harm,and the bad things that go on the poems!!!
