A Mother's Love

I was eight when I realized the truth and the harm;

I saw it on my teacher’s face; the pity and alarm.


They examined my body, outraged by the marks.

Calling social services, warning them of my matriarch.


The beatings were so frequent, I thought they were ordinary;

I thought this was life and that things were simply scary.


The problem was me, I was consistently informed.

She made me feel disgusting, horrid, disformed.


I had ten siblings, but I always got the beatings.

No matter what I did, she was always screaming.


The agents came, to ask me questions,

But she was there, hovering, giving directions


I knew what to say, having the script memorized;

Afraid to utter a word she didn’t authorize.


They chalked it up to me being a rowdy child,

Constantly falling down, while my mother just smiled.


They were called back, multiple times in the next few years,

But, like the first time, they ignored my tears.


For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to die;

I was vulnerable, and helpless; unable to understand why.

Why did my mother hate me, why was I deplorable;

Why was I always hungry, why is life unbearable?


Many now ask, where was you father?

Why didn’t he help, why didn’t he bother?


The truth is that, I would see him on occasion,

And he saw the bruises and abrasions.


But he ignored them, not wanting to make waves.

In retrospect, I now know I could’ve been saved.


But he made excuses, though I would beg and plead;

“now’s not a good time”, seeming to be his creed.


But the day came when he had no choice;

Getting to big to abuse, I developed a voice.


Finding my courage, I no longer allowed myself to be beat,

And so she lost her power, and I was thrown on the street.


My father took me in, my clothes in a plastic pouch.

He was staying with a friend, and we slept on the couch.


Many would think this was a rough life for a boy,

But, in reality, I cried tears of joy.


I finally escaped the abuse of fists and words.

I was finally safe and free as a bird.

For those that live in darkness with no light in sight,

Take solace in my story, freedom awaits you, no matter your plight.


I am now happy, a man in his prime.

A future that’s bright; my advice, give it time.


Also, be brave and stand your ground.

If you give up and stop kicking, you will drowned.


We often accept the way we are treated, because of a title;

Like mother or father, as if they are vital.


But the treatment defines the relationship, not the other way around.

So, chose your loved ones, and avoid those that drag you down.


I was lucky, to have found my courage so young,

but its never to late to find your tongue.





This poem is about: 
My family


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