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**Abuse of A Child I**
One April day, I regained my freedom from the abuse of boys and men. From the age of five I was abused savagely, for they touched me here, and they touched me there. They told me not to tell. I didn't know right from wrong, I was but a child. I thought this was they way things were supposed to be. Things went on from months and years. All the things a child should never endear. C'mon over and babysit. Me and my wife are going out a bit. I was awakened with a slide of a hand upon my tiny bosom, and one up under my dress. I didn't know right from wrong, I was but a child. I thought this was the way things were supposed to be. I went to school, in a new year. A health class teacher, told us what I thought was right was wrong all them years. I broke down and cried many, many tears. She said dear child whats the matter, I could not, would not tell her what I had endeared. School was over, I went home. I was so mad I got in a fight. I then went and sat on their steps, the wife came home and I told her what I had endeared. The look in her eyes was disbelieving. Many more years passed by. She still didn't believe me until, her daughters told her what they had endeared. http://allpoetry.com/poem/3495046
Sicko, Psycho, S.O.B. F'N A Hole Bass Terd Needs his thing cut off!! I have suffered some much over the years due to these incidents. DON'T EVER LET IT HAPPEN TO YOU. TELL, TELL, TELL SOMEONE RIGHT AWAY IF IT DOES, IT IS WRONG DON'T BE SCARED, NO ONE WILL HATE YOU FOR SOMEONE ELSE'S WRONG DOING'S YOUR AN INNOCENT CHILD OR ADULT YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE VIOLATED THIS WAY!!
Link to Stories about this poem and the many problem's it caused in my life.
http://allpoetry.com/column/2338548
Ampbreia at photobucket
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Comments
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This really brought me to tears.
I went through something so similar. Bless your heart for sharing something so personal and painful. I was just 5 when I was sexually abused at my babysitters' house by a teenager. My dad was a single parent at the time, so he did what he could back then to raise me and my brother while he worked so hard for us. When I was locked in the bathroom at that babysitters' house with a very sick kid, I was so terrified. I never said a thing about it, and my dad never did find out. He certainly would have ended up in prison had he found out what had happened to me over there. Their mom was always outside in her garden. She didn't really care for us, from what I remember. Her husband, Blacky, was really nice, though. He was my school bus driver. He was the only one in that family that was ever nice to us.
Being so young, I was afraid to tell anyone, especially after Rick (the one who abused me) made me eat a couple bars of soap to wash out the taste that left. It's a very painful memory for me to share, and something my older brother had thought I didn't remember. He was 8, and he was so scared himself, and struggled with the fact that he wasn't able to protect me. When I told him about the memories a few years ago, we both broke down. He was hoping that I wouldn't remember. Once my dad noticed a dark bruise on my brother's arm, he immediately took us out of that house for good, after my brother told him that Rick's big brother grabbed him really hard. I didn't remember any of the abuse until I was 20, and I thought about talking to my dad about it, but I decided not to, because it would have just tore him apart, knowing he wasn't able to protect me. My dad passed away the next year, so I never did share it with him.
I'm glad you shared your story. It helps me to share my own, rather than keep it bottled up. Today, I have two of my own kids, and it's very difficult for me to trust anyone other than my close family and friends with my kids. The thought of anything happening to a child even close to what I went through really hits me like a ton of bricks. I talked about it with my son when he was 8. It's really important, I think, to share with him, so that he knows he can come to me, no matter what. I will have the same talk with my daughter when she's a little older. You can't make the memories go away, but you do make a difference when you share it. Good for you for sharing. Sometimes, it helps someone else to talk about their own painful memories.
Knight70
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