Abuse Poems - Page 5

  1. 81. Inner Child

    • By Kate
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2008

    To the hurting child in each of us who've suffered the horrors of abuse.

    Hello Dear Jesus,
    It's been a long, long time.
    I hope that you still know me,
    I've been hiding quite awhile.
    I know that you know all things
    Still, I think I should explain,
    The reason I've been hiding
    Is because of all the shame.
    I know that I don't look so great
    For meeting up with you
    But I hope you understand
    I've been alone since I was eight.
    You probably see the dirt marks
    And smudges on my face
    But it seems no matter how I try
    Some things can't be erased.
    They say that eyes are windows
    That peer into the soul.
    I'm afraid that if you look there,
    You'll find it dark and cold.
    I'm not sure why it is, Lord,
    But you won't see any tears.
    I guess they've just been locked up
    Inside me all these years.
    I know that limp and lifeless
    Is my unruly hair.
    I guess that's just what happens
    When no one really cares.
    And if you ask a question
    I won't have much to say.
    I've found that no one really wants
    To hear me anyway.
    And if you care to listen,
    Sit quiet and you'll hear
    How hard my heart is pounding.
    That's because of all the fear.
    You'll notice that I wrap my arms
    Around me all the time.
    I do that for protection
    Of the things that should be mine.
    See, not so very long ago,
    Without an ounce of care,
    Someone took away from me
    Things I never meant to share.
    And if you find I tremble
    When you come close to me,
    It's because of all the dreadful things
    That someone did to me.
    Jesus I'm so sorry
    If these things have saddened you.
    But when I cried out to you
    You never told me what to do.
    I know that in my mother's womb
    You created me
    And I can't help but wonder
    Is this what I was meant be?
    They say that you are everywhere,
    With each and every one,
    But it seems that on those dark nights
    You left me all alone.
    They tell me that you love me
    And I suppose it's true,
    But Jesus, please remember
    That he said he loved me too.

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    What a beautiful poem .. I'm almost 21 and I got molested when I was in 7th grade until my freshman year by my mother's husband. Forced to do things no angel should.. And all he said was that...

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  2. 82. The Abuse

    • By Melissa M Young
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems August 2013

    Hi, My name is Melissa Marie Young and I live in Heath, Ohio.
    I am 27 years old and I started writing poetry when I was just 10 years old. The physical and sexual abuse I went through as a child is what inspired me to write poetry. I was left alone in my room a lot and had nobody to talk to about how I was feeling. So I started writing poetry expressing my feelings. Now I write about my life, as well as other poetry too. I hope to become a famous poetry writer one day.

    Poem By A Survivor Of Childhood Sexual And Physical Abuse

    When I was five and I remember
    when a person became my dad.
    His name was Bob and he was rough,
    and I heard that he was bad.

    First came all the yelling,
    when I cried, He'd look and smirk.
    Then came throwing me across the room
    when he saw that it didn't work.

    When I wasn't hungry
    for not even a piece of bread,
    the rule was "eat it or wear it"
    and I had gravy on my head.

    My parents always slept all day
    which I thought was really cool.
    I didn't worry about the beating
    when I first came home from school.

    In school the kids made fun of me
    but they didn't even know.
    That compared to life at home
    it didn't make me low.

    As I thought, but should have known,
    how much worse that things could get.
    I never heard of this before
    and it's something I won't forget.

    Sometimes I would try to run
    Somewhere where I could hide,
    but then came the metal handcuffs
    and in no person could I confide.

    But I am happy about one thing
    one thing got finally stored.
    My hands were no longer tied
    behind my back with the cord.

    This is really bad enough
    but there is plenty more.
    I was handcuffed to a chair and my bed
    as well as the knob of my door.

    Bob's dad would take advantage
    while I wasn't moving free,
    He would go on with the touching
    and he started molesting me.

    This happened for 6 years
    the secret kept so silent,
    even though I had the marks
    of a childhood so violent.

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    I wrote this poem almost 4 years ago. Since then, I have become a stronger woman. BOTH people who hurt me are now diseased. (Bob, cancer) I also learned I put an end to the sexual abuse not...

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  3. 83. Lost Innocence

    Looking back on a time and place
    Seeing a child's innocent face
    Knowing that things aren't as they appear
    For inside she cries silent tears
    Deep inside she is filled with pain
    She feels dirty and full of shame
    Innocence lost at a very young age
    Locked this child in a pain filled cage
    There is no freedom or escape
    From the fact this child was raped
    While the guilty man is roaming free
    This child is sentenced to eternity
    Eternity locked away with all this shame
    She can't help but feel that she was to blame
    Even though common sense says it was not her fault
    She can't seem to help from having these thoughts
    What ifs' keep running through her mind?
    She keeps going back to those moments in time
    If there isn't something different she could have done
    Why didn't she scream or at least try to run
    Fear kept her frozen to the spot
    While this grown man did what he should have not?
    Shame and fear made her keep the silence
    Kept her telling anyone about the violence
    The thing that is shocking beyond belief
    Is that this child could not get any relief
    The same thing happened again and again
    The first one was just how it began
    More than one man did his worst
    None of them caring about the child they hurt
    After the first time was it easy to tell
    Was it her pain and shame they could smell?
    With every touch a part of her died
    Now she is in a prison that has no gate
    Every one of them sealing her fate

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    You're gonna make it. I'm pretty sure. Your'e 19 already and you're beautiful. Stay strong for me please. Thank you :)

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  4. 84. Who's Listening?

    • By Susan
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2007

    Hello, I'm Susan, now in my 40's, an Adult. But the scared, confused, severely abused little girl still lives within me and everyday she prays for amnesia.

    Pain And Trauma Of Abuse

    Who's listening to the young child's teardrops fall to the ground?
    from the pain
    the fear
    and the torment she endures each day?

    Who feels the emptiness in the young child's soul?
    as she searches for that fairytale happiness
    while wishing she were looking through another child's eyes?

    Who sees the bruises on her outside and the gashes from within?
    from the agony and sorrow of just wanting to fit in?

    Who hears her crying in the dark every night?
    while trembling under her bunk but she is still in his sight?

    There is No where for her to go
    No where for her to hide or to escape from her feelings inside.

    It just gets harder the older she gets.
    The memories and scars will always be there

    BUT NO ONE TO REALLY CARE.
    Who's listening?

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    Latest Shared Story

    Thank you for sharing Erin. I am so sorry you had to endure such treatment. You are a strong young woman. You have been put through much, however...it appears you have also learned much &...

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  5. 85. All Because Of Him

    • By Jessika
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems March 2008

    One girl commits suicide because of the abuse her father afflicted on her.

    Suicide Because Of Abuse

    She sits at home scared to death
    She wonders "am I ever going to get through this"
    He's yelling at her
    What did she do?
    Nothing!
    She's got scars all over her body
    Blood stains in her clothes
    She's on the floor in pain
    He almost beat her to death again
    She's been through this many times before
    And she hides it from her friends
    They don't know what happens behind the closed doors
    There's nothing she can do
    But to sit there and let it happen
    Is there anyone that can save her?
    Anyone that can help her
    She comes home from school
    He waits for her by the door
    She walks in and sees mom isn't home
    She knows she's going to get hurt
    She tries to turn and run out the door
    But he grabs her arm and pulls her right back in
    He slaps her across the face
    Throws her on the ground
    And tells her to get up
    She starts crying and he sees
    He tells her to stop being a baby and slams her into the door
    She's afraid for her life
    She might not live this time
    He sees she's scared
    Tells her to go into the kitchen
    She decides to fight back
    And he doesn't like it
    He starts cussing her out and hits her again
    She gets back up and throws a chair at him
    She hears a car pulling up
    He gets nervous and tells her to go to her room
    She runs outside
    Mom tries to stop her but can't
    She runs off down the trail
    And doesn't come back for days
    She's found a week later dead in the woods
    Holding a gun
    And it was all because of him

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  6. 86. I Can Hear Him Coming For Me

    • By Debbie Lalor
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2008

    Dedicated to victims of child abuse by their Father.

    Late at night I lie in fright
    I can hear him coming for me
    One hand over my mouth to keep me quite
    Dear God, please let my mother see

    Always trying to find the strength to keep him away
    I can hear him coming for me
    The stench of booze on his breath I still remember to this day
    Dear God, please hear my plea

    Daughter do not speak of this or you will die
    I can hear him coming for me
    He warns me not to fight don't even try
    Dear God, please help set me free

    Wishing I could find away to escape this abuse
    I can hear him coming for me
    Telling me I was special was only an excuse
    Dear God, please make him let me be

    Somehow I found the courage deep inside to be bold
    I can hear him coming for me
    Stay way from me I warned for I have told
    Dear God, I am free at last, free to be me

    Why do I feel so ashamed?
    I can hear him coming for me
    No daddy, it is you who you that I blame
    Dear God, I wonder if that little girl will ever find forgiveness, should she?

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  7. 87. Final Breathe

    A poem of the abuse I went through and the hatred I feel for not telling anyone for so long. Hope you like it xx

    I can't remember my name
    I don't remember much at all
    drowning in pitiful shame
    trying to beat this final fall

    seeking for some kind of key
    the slightest glimpse of a spark
    that will let me remember me
    I can only see a future of dark

    I see a hand come towards me
    it strikes the side of my face
    it is red and there for all to see
    it goes on for days and days

    I'm in the bedroom alone
    when I hear a knock at the door
    and he quickly crosses my zone
    and I fall to my knees on the floor

    this feeling inside me feels so real
    my dark demented soul sensation
    my heart is broken with no seal
    I am trying to hold on without temptation

    I'm seeing a world of butterflies
    a loving home with lots of care
    what can I do? I cannot see
    this home is loving and fair

    I don't want to walk alone
    beckoned to this final stage
    all worrying cares of life atone
    inside all the iniquity and rage

    beaconed to this empty room
    unfolded by my brain
    it seems to be one empty tomb
    and it's driving me insane

    no one can hear my pray
    but I'm trying to put a smile on to stay
    when you feel locked up with nowhere to hide
    and you feel as if there's no one beside

    when you feel as if you want to cry
    and the days just aren't going by
    you just want to disappear
    and in your eye there's a glittering tear

    when you feel as if everyone's talking about you
    and you just don't know what to do
    when your head just doesn't want to heal
    the thing is this pain is just so real
    and no one knows just how you feel

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  8. 88. Dead, Beaten And Broken

    • By Louise
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2008

    For all those out there....open your eyes xx

    There was once a little girl
    Who was pretty and sweet
    She had blonde curly hair
    And cute little feet

    She always wore pink
    And smelt of baby soap
    I liked to watch her play
    With that purple skipping rope

    But I remember when she grew
    She changed so very much
    She started wearing black
    And she had her hair cut short

    She wasn't all chatty and nice
    Like I remember her to be
    She walked with her head to the floor
    Humming very sorrowfully

    Then on one strange day
    I saw her for the last time
    For I heard she had died
    On the news that night

    She had cut her wrists open
    And taken lots of pills
    It was then I found out
    She was a victim of abuse

    So it just goes to show
    How abuse can change them
    From cute smiley little girls
    To being dead, beaten and broken

    Don't abuse children...please!

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    Latest Shared Story

    I will never forget what you did to me all those nights.
    So many restless nights.
    Laying in my bed filled with pain, and horror.
    You knew I was weak. You took advantage of me.
    I kept...

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  9. 89. The Boogeyman

    • By Naomi
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2008

    This is not about my father, a man I never knew very well. This is about the various men I encountered in Foster Care and State Homes. As an adult I am still amazed that those who are charged to protect us as children fail so very often.

    The Boogeyman comes late at night.
    So stay under the covers, tuck them in tight.
    Close your eyes, pretend to sleep,
    Even though you hear him creep.
    If your eyes stay shut very tight,
    You can make it through the night.
    Just let him play his twisted games,
    In time my child he'll go away.
    Breathe deep and even, don't say a word.
    Keep your calm little girl.
    After he leaves tuck the covers back in,
    Put it out of your mind, forget about him.
    Go to sleep proud you did not scream,
    Tell yourself it was just a bad dream.
    Wake up and wash with water that scalds.
    Keep your secrets, build your walls.
    Sit down to breakfast, take your place.
    After all you never saw his face.
    Remind yourself it was just a fable,
    And that's not him at the head of the table.

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    Latest Shared Story

    Yeah I also went through the same thing (but it was a boy only 4 yrs older then me) I really enjoyed this poem because I understand... Thanks

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  10. 90. Take A Walk With Me

    • By Teri Coleman
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2008

    Someone told me the other day that a good way of facing the past and letting go is to write down how you feel and the things you would like to say. Even if you never send it.
    Maybe one day I will.

    When you close your eyes, tell me what do you see?
    Come hold my hand and take a walk with me
    Down a long dark corridor, with doors shut tight
    I will open them up, just for you tonight

    Let's open up the door marked number one
    Take a peek inside, please try not to run
    The demons screech out, yelling one by one
    Come in here, come join in the fun

    Sex and porn, a room full of abuse
    But don't shout out, because it's no use
    No-one will come when you scream
    Just lie there quietly; it's all a bad dream

    Door number two is full of jokes
    Aimed at a girl, whose tears do choke
    She tries so hard to please and be accepted
    Yet is made to feel worthless and feels rejected

    Now is this safe? Door number three
    There's another young girl, who looks just like me
    She has her own demons and pain to bear
    Yet deep down inside, I know she does care

    Door number four, how bad can this be?
    Should have been a life that was so free
    And yet more demons they do appear
    Go away little girl, you are not welcome here

    Door number five is the drunk she has faced
    Door number six is still firmly shut and braced
    Number seven is dark and I can't see
    No tale to tell, not yet for me

    Let's close all the doors now and turn and leave
    I've seen the demons and felt them breathe
    But here they all are now, alive and real
    Maybe its time to tell them exactly how I feel

    Deep down I am hurting and I am not strong
    What you all did to me was totally wrong
    I put on a front to hide my pain
    But now I am tired of playing this game


    There are so many things I do want to say
    And this says a lot, in my own little way
    But what's the point, for it won't change the past
    Only for this little girl, it is the last

    So I take her hand and lead her away
    To a better future, out of harms way
    She is an adult now, with a future ahead
    ..........................................DEAD

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  11. 91. Advocate

    • By Elizabeth J. Barringer
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2006

    The voice of a child cries out and the whole world reverberates with guilt. Who will be an advocate for a this child who is abused, who is treated like a useless rag doll, to fulfill a cruel man's sick fantasies?

    Who Will Be The Abused Child's Advocate?

    Mom is passed out, too much beer at the bar,
    I lay sleeping, until my bedroom door is ajar.
    I hear his feet shuffle the carpet across the floor,
    My heart starts pounding, How far is the door?
    Should I make a run for it, or lay silent and be still,
    How can this man I call Dad, force me, against my will?
    I'm only a child, not more than seven,
    Already I'm praying, Please God, take me to heaven.
    I try to scream but the words won't come out,
    It really doesn't matter, nobody hears me shout.
    His breath smells like cigarettes and foul whiskey,
    I'm just hoping he will die, or soon let me be.
    Finally, it's over, I know he must be through
    Now he's sleeping with mom, one drunk times two.
    I lay awake for the longest time, pondering many a thought,
    Hoping someone will believe me, and these two animals, get caught.

    What is the end result of this dysfunctional family?
    Will you be the voice that tells or just leave it be?

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    I had tears whilst reading this - no one should suffer like this.

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  12. 92. Never Forget

    • By Stacy Brown
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems February 2008

    A poem about a mother facing the fact that her children are emotionally and physically scarred by the abuse from their father.

    Poem From Mom To Abusive Father

    The hate that I feel inside for you
    For all the crappy things you have put them through
    With all of your abuse and all of your lies
    For every tear that left their eyes
    This anger has completely taken over me
    Like a fire burning through a tree
    Like the waves crashing in the sea
    No more will I continue to let this be
    I will not let you hurt them anymore
    I made that promise to them, I swore
    You have done enough to lose their trust
    They now look at you with hate and disgust
    You have scarred my children for the rest of their lives
    I can see just how much every time I look into their eyes
    Tell me how it is that you live each and everyday
    Knowing that you did that and made them this way
    Always scared, hurt, sad, and mad
    How could you ever call yourself a dad

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    Hey guys and girls...I have been battered and bruised by the guy who happens to be my dad (really hate that word). I have endured a variety of tortures from that man who happens to be my dad...

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  13. 93. Dear Mr. Jesus

    • By Jessica Martin
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2008

    Asking Jesus to save her from a bad situation.

    It looks like I will see you soon!
    Mommy and Daddy are arguing.

    It started around June!
    Mommy hit me, when Daddy drove away!

    I went upstairs and hugged Mr. Fluffy
    And I prayed that everything is okay!

    Daddy came back,
    while Mommy was not there!

    He grabbed me by my wrists!
    and took my teddy bear!

    I saw him tear off Mr. Fluffy's head!
    Then he took off his belt and whipped me!

    But nothing could be said!
    Daddy hit me, when Mommy walked through the door

    I though she would stop him!
    But she added more!

    Mommy was drunk
    and Daddy was high!

    Mommy burnt me with her cigarette
    and yelled at Daddy goodbye!

    My eyes were black,
    and my stomach was bruised!

    I had 3 broken ribs
    and a loose tooth!


    I stopped going to school
    cause I didn't want to explain

    that my parents are so cruel
    and why I am going insane!

    I can't move my body,
    cause Daddy stabbed me in my spine!

    I would rather be dead!
    then live this life of mine!

    So..Dear Mr. Jesus!
    I will be with you tonight!

    I do love my Family!
    But I cannot win this fight!


    I know you will take care of me!
    As my spirit lifts away!

    and when I see you
    everything will be okay!

    I know I will be loved more up there!
    Because Mommy and Daddy hated me!

    and you have more love to share!

    The only thing they loved,
    was hurting me!

    They don't care about my heath,
    cause all I ate was dirt!

    So Mr. Jesus!
    I cant wait to see you!

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    Hi there
    I hope you have gathered enough strength to be able to see another day, saying I am sorry to you would not make any difference now. I admire your courage to share such a heart...

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  14. 94. Don't

    • By Trisha Eckenrode
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2009

    when I was 8 years old a life of hell began with the man who was my father. he was addicted to heroin and raped and beat me senseless on several occasions. today I am 17 years old, and in drug rehab. I have been sober for a grand total of 6 months. and I can finally look in the mirror and face who I am today. my father committed suicide when I was 12, he shot himself in the head.

    Please daddy don't
    please daddy don't walk away
    don't go daddy that's all I have to say
    daddy don't leave me on this sidewalk
    I don't wanna be alone
    I'm scared daddy
    please take me by the hand
    don't go daddy
    this pain I just can't stand
    daddy don't go
    I have no one else
    daddy you left me in a room
    daddy where is momma, I can't find her
    I'm scared
    left alone on the floor
    some one is knocking on the door
    who is it I yell
    daddy where did you go
    I'm alone
    uh oh daddy's back
    daddy I missed you I squeal
    I'm glad your back
    I run over to hug him
    daddy shoves me violently to the ground
    he says make one sound your dead
    daddy don't hurt me anymore
    I just don't understand
    you said it was my turn to give what momma wouldn't
    daddy don't do it
    I'm just a little girl
    shut up he screams
    daddy twists my arm behind my back
    and shoves me toward the room
    he said I love you
    daddy don't do it again
    I am only ten
    no more pain More game
    daddy I'm so ashamed
    daddy's shooting up again
    he offers me this time
    daddy don't put it in my arm
    daddy don't I'll yell
    daddy someone is at the door
    I am scared
    he looks through the hole
    daddy lets them in
    3 big guys
    1 by 1 they shuffle in the room
    daddy whispers make it quick
    she's mine soon
    daddy don't leave me alone with them
    daddy please stay
    they take turns
    as I lay there and I cry
    I wished that I could die
    what happened to my childhood
    I guess it was never really there
    daddy is back again
    he's crying I am scared
    I tell him how much I hurt
    and as much as you hurt too
    I know it is over now
    because he's on the floor
    in a puddle of blood
    that I had never seen before

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    That's so sad!! I hope you are ok and getting through life ok...!

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  15. 95. My Family Didn't Believe Me

    • By Erika Rios
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems June 2009

    This poem is about my God-Brother he abused me sexually when I was a little girl and when I grew enough courage after 2 years to say what was going on my family didn't believe me instead they said I was crazy and stupid for thinking like that after that I saw a shrink from 5 years and even though I gave my life to Jesus I still get haunted by the memory of him. I just would like for someday to be a voice for those in my situation. may god bless you all.

    I close my eyes and you haunt me
    this image I can't bare
    I hate this world that surrounds me
    when I felt you near

    I hate the way you touched me
    who the hell gave you the right
    to treat me like you wanted to
    to take advantage of me every night

    I was only 8 when I felt your touch
    of your ugly hands that I hate so much

    I never knew why you did this to me
    why was I the one no one believed
    you felt me feeling stupid and shamed
    somehow you made me feel I was the one to blame

    did I really deserve this from someone I trusted
    I thought you were my blood but it was my body that you lusted

    I close my eyes and you still haunt me
    this image I cant bare
    I hate that you still surround me
    even though you're not here

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  16. 96. Remembering Foster Parents

    I am a survivor of the CAS and their failed system on protecting children. This poem is Dedicated to the many survivors of the Children's Aid Society and the many children that didn't survive it.

    Dedicated To Survivors Of Failed Foster Care

    Remember as a child,
    All the little games you played,
    Things to help the pain,
    Make the hurting go away.

    Remember your mom yelling,
    It's all because of you,
    Then dad would hit and hurt you,
    Oh what's a child to do.

    Thinking its your fault,
    Your fault that they were mad,
    And how this doesn't happen to good girls,
    Only to the girls that were bad.

    And in your room with your dolls,
    You ask them what was wrong,
    Do you remember hurting?
    Have you been hurting long?

    They always gave you answers,
    The same answers as before,
    Then they'd often show you,
    Where they hurt - where they were sore.

    Remember the Lightening,
    And the Thunder roar,
    As you cry inside your window,
    You felt your tear drops pour.

    Where does a child run too,
    Where do they go and hide,
    Underneath their sheets - where they think they're safe,
    And they silently cry.

    And when mom and dad are gone,
    The guilt and pain in their heads,
    For the hurtful things dad had done,
    And the hurtful things mom said.

    How long does it take the pain to go,
    How long for the wounds to heal,
    You pray to God it's a nightmare,
    But He knows its very real.

    And when you start to heal.
    The pain and guilt will weigh like a ton,
    But the battle to healing is just beginning,
    And in the end YOU'VE won!

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  17. 97. Why Abuse

    • By Alison Reinhardt
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2007

    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.

    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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    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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  18. 98. They Could Never Speak Again

    • By Khristian Harwood
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems November 2007

    This is to a very good friend of mine. I love her like a sister and no matter how hard I try I can't convince her to get out of an abusive relationship. I am truly hoping that this will help her understand what could happen.

    Helping A Friend Stop Abuse

    Perfect on the outside,
    Putting on a show.
    No one knows the truth,
    Although a few suspicions show.
    The constant bruising on her face,
    The hidden anger in his eyes.

    The world kept their secret,
    No one spoke out.

    One time it got out of hand,
    The beating to hard.
    Her life came to a sudden stop.
    Like the end of the ticking clock.
    They could never speak again,
    The worlds cycle just continued,
    Flowing on and on.

    As we walked through the door,
    we needed to talk and so much more.
    About the things we recognize,
    About the things that make us hurt inside.

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    Wounds heal but scars, last a life time.
    When I was six at stayed at your house. Lying on the couch all tucked in, not expecting that what was bound to happen could ever happen to me. You...

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  19. 99. Make My Own Pain, Daddy's Game

    • By Faith Brown
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems May 2011

    I was sexually, physically, mentally, emotionally abused for 4 years by my adoptive dad. He would sneak into my room every night with his cigarette and diet Dr. pepper. When I heard the glass clinking and see the red end of his cigarette burning I knew it was about to be hell. I survived and I am a strong woman. I was up late tonight and reading some of these poems and it inspired me so I just wrote down a few lines.....

    Every night before you dream his footsteps come your way
    Close your eyes tight, sink down and he might go away

    The door creeks open and you hold your breath
    The things he is about to do is worse than death

    He sits in the corner, gets a cigarette and lights one up
    Takes a drink from his glass as the ice clinks in his cup

    He whispers, "I know your awake and I don't have much time"
    Your heart stops beating because he's about to commit a crime

    His hands slips under your covers ready to cause pain
    This is all part of daddy's sick little game

    Make a sound and it will be your last
    You silently pray for the pain to pass

    Once he is done the pain goes away
    But forever will the memory of daddy's game stay

    You start to feel trapped with no one to tell
    You think this is the closest thing to living in hell

    You don't want him to get satisfaction out of his game
    So then you decide to make your own pain

    You feel so much better when it is you making you hurt
    Instead of your dad who was supposed to protect you since birth

    As you grow up the memories will remain
    And you will never forget playing daddy's little game

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    I cry tears everyday, I'm now beginning to think that I'm a survivor not a victim!! I'm 34 with a dark past and now I think I'm bashing down the wall that surrounds me that I built!! So I can...

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  20. 100. Finding The Girl I Was Once Before

    • By Kristen
    •  Published by Family Friend Poems August 2008

    To all the girls who feel this way, we all share something, be strong and dont let anyone drag you down
    Your not alone

    No one understands
    but the girls who
    have been abused
    By the "man"
    who has left you
    so hurt and confused

    Why me?
    What did I do?
    To not being
    able to move on
    from the things
    that you do

    I have changed
    in my life
    and not become
    who I dreamt

    All because you
    took it all away
    from me

    I am 20 years old
    and 13 years
    hasn't over come
    what you did

    It haunts me
    I hate you

    I don't remember my
    childhood like
    others do

    When I think of
    my childhood
    I think of you..

    Its blocked out
    the happy days
    in my life

    I wish you would
    jus go away
    or die

    The hardest thing
    is it was you so close
    to me, and my daddy
    never believed me
    how could this be

    I can not change what
    I have become
    You don't know what its
    like to not be able
    to overcome

    I am writing this now
    because its never talked
    about no one knows
    I walk through life
    with this on my shoulders
    everyday..

    The truth is out
    I hope you die
    I was daddy's lil girl
    until his nephew hurt me...

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    Wow. I cant tell you HOW much this relates to me and my life. I'm 13 now and my father's been hitting me since I was 4. It's 8 years and last year I finally had the guts to speak up and tell...

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