Tuesday, 15 December 2009

DAILY POEM "THE PUNCHBAG"

You broke me when I was a little boy
used me, abused me, like an old toy
I looked into the air wondering why me
no one would notice, no one could see.

Going to school with blackened eyes
always looking like I won second prize
friends would look, no one wanted to know
classed as a boys life, trying to grow.

Deep inside my soul, crying for help
cowering in fear, from the next skelp
when things go wrong, punch my face
make me see stars, travel to space.

One day I hope death comes my way
not from the pain, but from this day
take me from here, end my torment
heaven looks nice, but hell is bent.

To all you children, deadly scared
life of turmoil, warmth is spared
look to an adult, get them to hear
live your life happily, not in fear.


How many times do we read in the papers or see on TV the amount of kids who are abused, its not always sexually, some kids are brutally abused by adults for NO reason, its time to STOP, this is a zero tolerance subject, if you are suffering from abuse, of any kind, speak to a teacher or an adult you can trust or pick up a phone and dial for HELP, do not suffer alone.

Were YOU beaten as a child? do you know someone who was? did you carry this on to YOUR adulthood?

4 comments:

  1. This may be a song. I like the rhymes since most of the poems I write have that characteristic.

    The moral of the poem is explicitly written and it was like listening to a sad and hurt kid in the background.

    Z

    ReplyDelete
  2. Billy, This is really a poem that should be read to many who are abusing their children, both physically or mentally. Mentally doesn't show the scars on the outside, but on the inside, which can be far worse. You have done better than many in explaining what these youngsters (and Seniors as well) go through daily. Strong, powerfully written with great imagery. Blessings, and love, Helen xx

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  3. when the duct tape was around my mouth and i can smell the sweet smell of dinner
    you held me captive and i felt the first wack of your fist
    there was no dinner and there were no winners...
    they say you are a product of your own environment and if that is true
    then father you led me to the path i am currently here,
    a stronger heart & a resilient soul
    all if forgiven but i will never forget that first punch when i was 5
    it does last a lifetime
    and the question is father
    where are you now?
    are you happy or are you sad?
    i hope you are happy
    but something tells me dad..
    that you are just very sad ...
    Jason T

    ReplyDelete
  4. It made me cry. Been to school with two broken ribs, once a long time ago. It made me cry.

    ReplyDelete

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