Poor Battered Child
A child, a child, a poor battered child, lost and alone.
Not safe on the outside, not loved at home.
Bruised and broken, he knows nothing but pain.
The saddest thing is, it will all happen again.
From his head to his toes, the scars are all there.
some from last week, a few from last year.
He knows only torment, hurt and abuse.
One eye is black, his front teeth are loose.
He's covered with welts, but not from a belt.
They came from an electric cord, that's stashed on a shelf.
He walks with a limp, the bone not set right.
He goes to bed early, then cries most of the night.
He wakes up early, his body so sore.
But the saddest thing is, just today he'll turn four.
Abuse has no ethics, no social background.
Wherever there are children, abuse can be found.
But why the children? Why must they pay?
For their parents mistakes, when they've had a bad day?
"Just another drink" and all will be fine.
But there's usually anger, at the end of the line.
They've "lost their freedom" or they're "never alone".
It would be more convenient, if there weren't any children at home.
What ever the reason, the parents are at fault
But the children suffer, in a trap they are caught.
So look in the mirror, just look and you'll find.
Not a child at fault, but a weak, confused mind.
Be kind to the children, protect them from sorrow.
For they are our joy today, the parents of tomorrow
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.