Daddy ... it hurts ...

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 weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy,
Would still want to hug me.

I can't do a wrong,
I can't speak at all,
Or else I'm locked up,
All day long.

When I'm awake,
I'm all alone,
The house is dark,
My folks aren't home.

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



I just heard a car,
My daddy is back,
From Charlie's bar

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

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



He's 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.

'I'm sorry!', I scream,
But it's 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.

______________________________


I found this poem on Facebook today.
It was posted back in October 2009,
and it is being passed on there since then.

I posted the poem to my wall, too.
And I added the following commentary ...

______________________________


I pass this on, because it is important.

I do not need, or approve of, the
"if you don't ... you don't have no soul!!!"
part of the original message
[urging the people to pass on the poem].
And I don't want you to feel that pressure, either.

What is described in this poem, happens every day.
All around the world.
In rich families and poor families.
To boys and girls.

Just read this poem,
and feel it.
Think about it.
And then act.

By not looking away.

By helping.

By holding your own emotions under control,
and not make those suffer who deserve to suffer the least.
It is so easy to cross that line ...
Please don't.

Instead:


Be a bright spot in a dark place.

You are needed.

______________________________

.