deepundergroundpoetry.com
A broken child
he will beat her today
he will slap her face again
opening the old cuts
that has bled again and again
I confess father
I stole the banana
I was hungry father
You took my supper away last night
cos I wet my panties again
but when you shout I do that
don't beat me too hard
it's only been two days
since the previous hitting
forgive my rumbling stomach
But I only took one
she turns her back
and thought of comfort
in her mother's tummy
as he takes up her four year old body
and throws her against the wall.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Published 16th Dec 2015
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What I can only label as probing is the inner voice that is present seems to be older the actual age of the subject. If this is indeed the cae as a reader I am hoping that the look back served some positive purpose, in reaching deep layers of damage
13th Jan 2016 7:27am
I left at 15 Jazzmanor. My first memory of my father beating me was when I was almost three. He was an abusive man. I always cry sorry sorry when he beat me. I was never coherent as a child...I just put them together as the thought I wanted to say then. Thank you for reading:) and commenting. Honoured.
