Mommy says she doesn't love me,
because I can't count.
Daddy says he hates me,
without no doubt.
But what did I do wrong?
I can never figure it out.
Why they hurt me,
I just don't understand.
But when I ask why,
they yell, "grow up,
be a man!"
When I tell them I'm just a boy,
they throw me around like my only toy.
Once they played baseball,
with my head.
One more blow,
And I might've been dead.
I think I hate them,
but I just don't know.
Mommy's says, "hate,"
is a strong word.
Not that I would know.
But one day,
they got really mad.
They were talking funny,
and making me sad.
Next thing I knew,
I was pinned to the ground.
Daddy's breath smelled funny,
and Mommy resembled
a clown.
Daddy's hit me with a baseball,
Mommy with a knife.
And as I stared at the puddle
of blood on the floor,
they left,
to go smoke a pipe.
I limped to the door,
as fast as I could.
And as I walked away,
all I heard, was
the laughter of two
maniacs playing with
a gun.
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*This story is about noone is particular.*
If you know someone who is
being abused, better yourself and
contact the police.
