A very sad poem....

I will warn you this is a tough read. It's hard to read, but I think necessary to pass along. I didn't go through abuse this bad but I know I felt a lot of the same ways. I am lucky I am still here.


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 werent ugly,
Then maybe my mommy,
Would still want to hug me.

I cant do a wrong,
I can speak at all,
Or else Im locked up,
All day long.

When Im awake,
Im all alone,
The house is dark,
My folks arent home.

When my mommy does come home,
Ill try and be nice,
So maybe Ill just get,
One whipping tonight.

I just heard a car,
My daddy is back,
From Charlies bar

I hear him curse,
My name is called ,
I press myself,
Against the wall.

I try to hide,
From his evil eyes,
Im so afraid now,
Im 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.

Hes 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.

Im 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,
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Chris ,
I am three,
Tonight my daddy,
Murdered me.