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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Tragedy · #1306342
Poetry spawned from an abusive childhood.
Witness, I shall Not

We all had it bad, yes we did.
I just hope, not like me, when I was a kid.
Bashings and beatings for all of the family to see.
Public killings for everyone, through me.
They thought it was good.
They thought it was right.
But if it were some other kid,
they'd put up a fight.
I can't be wrong for feeling this way,
because in front of me, that would be the day!

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