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He Won!The little boy in pain and fear, Battered abused and scared, Hiding his hurt from the world, Giving screams like you've never heard! Everyday he remember as a child, Pain and fear were his life, Beatings - fear and torment, Were the trials of horror and strife! One day he went too far, He beat him black and blue so bad, That he beat him into a mess; And this was so very sad! He grew up in fear and sorrow, Torment was the name of the game, And he went sick each time he heard… His father shouting his name! Every night as a child he would sob, Until his pillow was soaked in tears, No matter how he wished it would stop, He could never get rid of his fears. He always left him beaten and bruised, So hard he cried and sobbed, His childhood wasn't a normal one, For his childhood he was robbed. He never showed remorse, For the pain he inflicted on him, And whenever there was a reason, His father would always win! For he wasn't a strong little lad, But his father was a big strong bully! And every time he raised his fists, The little lad went into a flurry! Ready to beat him black and blue, And strike fear into his heart and mind, A father who was supposed to love him, But instead a monster was all he could find. One time he beat him so bad; He thought that he had died, Full of remorse and guilt you think? When after it was over he cried! He never showed true remorse, For it was all false, just all show, For every time it happened, The ‘remorse' would surely go! What kind of love is that? Horror, shock and pain to instil… To make him fear him every day, And his love for him he'd kill! Love, that's not love at all, To beat you to within an inch of your life, To instil in you so much fear… And to have you live in torment and strife! Every day as a child he wished… That he would love him and care… But all he got was beatings and pain, His life was so unfair! After he would beat him black and blue, Next day he always cried, And at night he said he would dream… That he beat him until he died! He hid his hurt from the eyes of the world, And he lived in a fantasy life, Where he could dream of sugar and spice, And a happy life without strife! So cocooned inside his mind, His body wearily wracked in pain… His father would cry, but why did he? For he knew he would do it again! What kind of life is that? What kind of love did he convey? What kind of torment did he instil in him; What could he ever say? Nothing, he could never say anything, To undo the hurt and pain and strife, That bound him up so tightly, For the whole of his younger life! Crocodile tears in a false heart; This is what he saw and felt… And every day, he died inside, And died a little more with every belt! He punched and punched some more – And he never let up or eased back, All he did was harm him… And he died a little more with each smack! Always no matter the reason, He would always beat him some more, He would writhe in agony and pain, As he was beaten to the floor! He would beg him to stop, So then he would beat him again, A circle that couldn't be broken, Why did he have to live with this pain! He loved him he said, but did he? He had no concept of that emotion! How could he, when it was never on show! He didn't know of love and devotion! Learnt behaviour he'd heard it said, But no, it stopped at his feet, It wasn't going to live on in him… For he beat back the flames of defeat! So the little boy grew up and relived his past, And no, he has no guilt and no shame… It wasn't his fault - it never was… He vowed it would never happen again! They say in time you learn to forgive, And to forget and go forward in life…! But is that so, can it be so… Can you forgive that fear and strife? Some things can't be bought over, Can't be washed away with the tide, Sometimes it's impossible to do, When you think back to the tears you've cried. Time can't be taken back or be reversed; You can't shed off all that strife… It's not so easy it's so very hard, To forgive that kind of life! Did the punishment fit the crime? No, for there was no crime at all…! No excuse, no reasons why… No justification for beating the child so small. He wanted out of this horror, Wanted an end to the pain and strife… He wanted it so, he cried for it so, He cried for the end of his life… He wanted what he should have had, A father who loved him so… But he didn't have love, he had evil, Beating and bruising was all he could show! He would hide inside his mind, Dream dreams inside his head, And all the time, whishing… That he would wake up…dead! But he didn't die; he prevailed, And grew stronger every day, Until the day came, and he would leave! For he knew he couldn't stay! He grew stronger and strived to go forward, And to make his life good and true, Made learnt behaviour a thing of the past, For it's the only thing to do! Forgive him, yes he can! For yes, he has moved on… Its finally over, he rid his past… He did it, believe me, he won!!!! The Epilogue He now has a life full of love, A daughter and a loving wife, No matter his past, it won't happen to his, For he left behind all that strife! The Happy Ending! Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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