Abuse Poem

Is it harder to be the victim of abuse or to have too stand by and witness it?

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Childhood Tears

©

Published: February 2006



And voices echo through my door
As I pretend to sleep in my bed.
Night after night hearing b**** and whore,
And you stayed, sacrificing my childhood to
Hear those words instead.

Always knowing anger.
Always seeing the violence.
Making a husband out of a stranger,
Only to be trapped by love's deafening silence.

And to this life I was born,
Only to know love's pain.
And inside I am torn,
I whisper pray every night, 'Please don't let me become the same.'

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