As a child I was abandoned. Raised in an alcoholic home with two alcoholics. My mom was out of control, my dad was out of control, and they were in control of me.
The violence I witnessed as a six year old until my mother’s death when I was 18 was more then any human should have endured.
I called the cops to stop the violence when I was eight and they did nothing (Strike One), I talked to nuns and priests begging for help and they did nothing (Strike Two). There would never be a strike three. I shut down and turned off the world around me.
And Sometimes I wonder why as a child God let me endure such pain…
sometimes... sometimes...
I wonder... I wonder...
why it happened
the way it did
crying... pleading
for your help
and it hurt
when you turned away
sometimes... sometimes...
I wonder... I wonder...
why it happened
the way it did
a child growing in fear
hearing the screams
seeing the blood
unable to feel... turned numb
sometimes... sometimes...
I wonder... I wonder...
why it happened
the way it did
unable to understand
the path... the journey
turned to stone
just to survive
sometimes... sometimes...
I wonder... I wonder...
why it happened
the way it did
learned about Love
but where were You
so many years ago
when I needed you must
This is a heartbreaking poem that was well written with deep feelings.I am sorry that you had to go through that mess which you or anybody else don't deserve.It just mind boggling that the priests and nuns that you went to for help didn't do nothing much less extend a hand of compassion.Yet they have some nerve representing the church.Thank you for sharing your ordeal.Take care of yourself
This is heartbreaking. I can't imagine the awful pain you went through. Why God wasn't there then, we'll never know, but he's here now and that's what you must hold on to.
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