I saw the kid, walk through the door
dragging his books, across the floor.
To tired to make it, too his room
so she hit him hard, with the broom.
He sat on his bed and started to cry
but no one was around, to ask him why.
He holds his head up and tries to read
but does no good, he's too tired to see.
His head is hurting, from the night before
from the busted, when he hit the floor.
He wants to eat, but there's no food
makes you wonder, why they can be so rude.
He don't understand, why they are so mean
why they can't wash and keep him clean.
Goes to school, to get away from home
so he doesn't have, to feel he's alone.
He tries to hide it, from all his peers
the pain he suffered, through the years.
All the torture, they gave to him
I pray to God, he gives to them.
But now he lives, his life with that pain
of all the things that drives him insane.
This is no way, for a child to live
there's so much love, he wanted to give.
Tracy Rollings
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-pain-child-abuse/
