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 Harry Sweeden. My life in verse.

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P.T.S.D.
 
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Is something that I have
I’ve been told this was created
When life had just began…
It seems that from my childhood
The trauma was installed
With every single kick or punch
With every abusive call…
 
This was mainly from my Father
(Though others lent a hand)
It seemed that every single day
There were beatings on demand…
I never knew where they’d strike
Or when a hand would fall
I just knew that it was coming
I didn’t have to call.
 
Now I know the symptoms
Finally, the reason why?
I am to blame for past mistakes
Maybe not so much inside…
 For I am the same good person
That I have always tried to be
The cause and effect of a traumatic life
Has left me just…
 As me.
 







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