Dearest Teddy

I know its technically a "My Name Is Chris" poem. But i wrote it for a friend whos little cousin died of a similar situation..

My dearest Teddy
Mommy's mad
I hear her yelling
loud at dad.

She comes upstairs
I scream in fear.
Her face is twisted,
Wet with tears.

I try to run
Out of sight.
She can hear me,
Sense my fright.

She might not mean
To hit so hard.
She might have forgotten
How big grown ups are.

But deep down inside
Of Mommy's big heart
I know that she loves me
With at least a small heart.

She gets carried away
And lost in her fear.
I understand that
Now that I'm here.

My dearest Teddy,
Mommy now prays.
She visits my home
At least twice a day.

There is a big man here
Says he is God.
He knows about Mommy
And how she hits hard.

I'm very happy,
Now that I'm here.
I don't have to live
In quite as much fear.

I do miss you Teddy.
I miss Mommy too.
She wasn't always that mean.
This is the truth.

Until she got drunk
for the very first time.
She'd read stories at night
And was very kind.

That was before
She came home drunk the first night.
Daddy had hid me.
His face showed his fright.

My dearest Teddy
My name is Kris.
My Mommy had killed me
the night I turned six.

On that sad day in June,
Her eyes went cold to the core
My vision was fuzzy.
There was blood on the floor.

When Daddy got home,
It was much too late.
Mom stepped aside,
Face stricken with hate.

"What have you done!?!"
Daddy had shrieked.
He saw all the bottles,
knew Mom had freaked.

He cried so hard
That scary June night.
He knew I had screamed,
In all of my fright.

My dearest Teddy,
I write this knowing.
There's more kids like me,
Their bruised faces showing.

Showing the world what their parents have done.
Abused and neglected
They want only one...

One little thing in this harsh, big world.
To not be like me.
To live to be old.