Saturday, November 7, 2015

Child Abuse - Poetry

The blood was not his,
As he looked at his hand,
He just watched the child crying,
This despicable man.

No mother for comfort,
A child with no friend,
No brothers or sisters,
Want the beating to end.

Yelling and screaming,
Yet the child remain still,
Doing whatever,
Was this mans will.

A good hearted woman,
Passed by there one day,
She stared at the child,
Who had nothing to say?

The black marks and the bruises,
That is what she did see,
She told the poor child,
That has happened to me

The man was outraged
When he saw her stand there,
Mind your own business,
What do you care?

She pulled out a pistol,
And he heard the gun click,
He fell to his knees,
Feeling quite sick.

The squad car arrived,
Heard the things he had done,
This good hearted woman,
Came back for her son.

Author Steve Boddey
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