Abuse Poem

Abuse is not uncommon it is just unknown and this poems proves that abuse is just thought of as something little as to really its a big deal.

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This is a very sad poem. it made me cry. I also ask why, I get abused, not by violence. but by words. not by parents. but from the outside world.

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Why Abuse

©

Published: November 2007

A child found under his bed wet with blood he was bulged to death
A little girl found in an attic with burses on her face beaten to death because of her race.
A child found in a ally bleeding in pain because he stepped in front of a bad pep rally.
A child found shot to death because his dad lost the bet
As one more life is gone there murders still live on

A child cold out in the night to afraid to go home because of the fights
Blood, burses, whipping, and more should never be a child's future for them to uphold
Where do they go when there life is gone as the murders still live on?

Stop a child cries and the fist comes down first
And there was no more
No tears in their eyes, no more telling lies
For their life was gone as there murders still live on

Why all the madness why all the pain where did this parent learn to behave
Child too scared to run for their life
As their mom is drunk and is stabbing at them with a knife
Why all the pain why all the misery

Where does a child learn to take hits?
When the ones who do them say it's just for kicks
Laughing away as their child bleeds on the floor
Spiting at them as there's no more blood to bleed out anymore

A mother sent to jail
A father sent to death
As their child lay motionless on their front steps
Why all the rage were does this stop
When the clock strikes midnight you know that it won't stop

Why I why them
why can't this just end
When did I do something wrong as the child dies to the beat?
The beat of the fist that leaves a distinctive mark of the first hit

Where does this stop where do I die
All I want to do is get out of this life
Pain and suffering are all ok but not when it's from a supposed love one that does it over again

What kind of World
What kind of place
What kinds of parents make such mistakes?

By: Alison Reinhardt

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • Anonymous by Anonymous
  • 9 years ago

This is a very sad poem. it made me cry. I also ask why, I get abused, not by violence. but by words. not by parents. but from the outside world.

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