fredag 18. juni 2010

Sterkt dikt

My name is Chris

I am three,


My eyes are swollen


I cannot see,


I must be stupid


I must be bad,


What else could have made


My daddy so mad?


I wish I were better


I wish I weren't ugly,


Then maybe my mommy


Would still want to hug me.


I can't do a wrong


I can't speak at all


Or else im locked up


All day long.


When im awake im all alone


The house is dark


My folks aren't home


When my mommy does come home


I'll try and be nice,


So maybe i'll just get


One whipping tonight.


I just heard a car


My daddy is back


From Charlie's bar.


I hear him curse


My name is called


I press myself


Against the wall


I try to hide


From his evil eyes


I'm so afraid now


I'm starting to cry


He finds me weeping


Calls me ugly words,


He says its my fault


He suffers at work.


He slaps and hits me


And yells at me more,


I finally get free


And run to the door


He's already locked it


And i start to bawl,


He takes me and throws me


Against the hard wall


I fall to the floor


With my bones nearly broken,


And my daddy continues


With more bad words spoken,


"I'm sorry!", I scream


But its now much to late


His face has been twisted


Into a unimaginable shape


The hurt and the pain


Again and again


O please God, have mercy!


O please let it end!


And he finally stops


And heads for the door


While i lay there motionless


Brawled on the floor


My name is chris


I am three,


Tonight my daddy


Murdered me


And you can help


Sickens me top the soul,


And if you read this


and don't pass it on


I pray for your forgiveness


Because you would have to be


One heartless person


To not be effected


By this Poem


And because you are effected,


Do something about it!

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