At 7 Years Old

 

 

At 7 Years Old

I was beaten till I shed blood

At 7 Years Old

I was beaten till I shed no tears

At 7 Years Old

I was told to pray to God

At 7 Years Old

I was beaten while praying to God

At 7 Years Old

I learned not to cry

At 7 Years Old

I learned to not give a s**t why

At 7 Years Old

I was beaten cold

At 7 Years Old

I learned to keep it all in

At 7 Years Old

I learned to cry from within

At 7 Years Old

I hated myself

At 7 Years Old

I wanted to kill myself

At 7 Years Old

I became numb

At 7 Years Old

I thought I was dumb

At 7 Years Old

I thought everything I did was wrong

 

Just trying to read I got beat

Just trying to pray I got beat

 

At 17 Years Old

I was wild

At 17 Years Old

I did not give a f**k

At 17 Years Old

All I did was f**k

At 17 Years Old

I didn't know right from wrong

At 17 Years Old

I didnt care right from wrong

At 17 Years Old

I became numb to pain

At 17 Years Old

I started to inflict pain

At 17 Years Old

I started it all again

At 17 Years Old

I needed to restrain

At 17 Years Old

I didn't know who to blame

At 17 Years Old

I was ashamed

At 17 Years Old

I thought I was a shame

At 17 Years Old

I tried to change

At 17 Years Old

I hated even my own name

 

But why is the pain still there?

Why isn't my life fair?

 

At 27 Years Old

I still feel the same

At 27 Years Old

I still carry the pain

At 27 Years Old

I'm trying to understand why

At 27 Years Old

I still wanted to die

At 27 Years Old

I'm wondering am I sane?

At 27 Years Old

Am I going insane?

At 27 Years Old

I found out that I did nothing wrong

At 27 Years Old

I didn't speak for so long

At 27 Years Old

I found out that it wasn't my fault

At 27 Years Old

I found out that it was "HE" who was insane

At 27 Years Old

I am making a stand

At 27 Years Old

I know I would be a better man

 

Than "HE" who laid a hand

on a poor 7 year old boy

Reviews

[Stacy A. Foster]

So true, and glad there's a follow-up with a realization in this. Adults can influence the young in many ways, and not all of them are good. Luckily some of us realize who the ones are who were really wrong. I like the repetition in this which helps get the point across (from child to adult). The sad thing is that this is probably true for thousands...

At 27 Years Old
I found out that it wasn't my fault
At 27 Years Old
I found out that it was "HE" who was insane
At 27 Years Old
I am making a stand
At 27 Years Old
I know I would be a better man

Cheers for this,
Stacy

[Crazy Cat Man]

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[Rain]

I thought at first you were talking about Muslim Extremist babies. But, child abuse and wife abuse are the lowest of the low. Rain

[Lydia Shutter]

Bleak and sandpapery emotions expressed in an upfront way...so honest! I hope this poem is a catharsis for you. The world should be a safe and happy place for children...and all too often it is not. Very well written poetry. Lydia

[Ladysue]

What a horrible existence for any child to have to bear. Your expression of this was very real and so heart wrenching. Hang in there and thanks for sharing. I think it helps us all.

[Emily B]

You found your words. The way that you've used repetition underlies the cold and feeling of being numb. I might describe it as dirge-like as you bury the misconceptions and the pain. I hope in your Stand you can heal. You will be a better man.

[Jenny Davis]

Daniel, this is heart wrenching and incredibaly eye opening...there is something about that moment, the one where you realize it wasn't you- it was the one who beat you. This poem sits very close to my heart because I have been there and know about the blaming and the hating of yourself because of the question of WHY. I think it took a lot of courage for you to write this and for that I commend you...hang in there bro :)

[Nick Erickson]

Such a heart wrenching thing to have to endure for any child.
Maybe your strength to write this story will give others the strength to endure and find release.
You captured your emotions and feelings well in this piece.

[Healing This Heart]

For some people who read this poem they see it as a sad site on the treatment of children in our society and what scars they grow up with from what they have endured. For others the words of this poem ring so true the memories of the past become unburied. The remembrance of such feelings and those times as you lived through them are horrible, numbing and painfully blinding. The poem is deeply wrought with pain, with trying to recover, with voicing a loud cry of "do you finally hear me". I hear you, I unfortunely understand you and I recognize what you mean in every word of every line. The is a survivor's poem, with battle scars deep. It is brave and it is raw, but it is so very true.

[Poeticpiers]

To have the strength to survive is in itself a miracle. To learn to undertsna a greater miracle nd in time perhaps to forgive the greatest miracle of all. Writing is the best therapy to bring forth into the light the deep dark secrets that hamper your forward progress