It all comes back to me down the ages, <br />A child awake listening to the tick of a clock. <br />My troubled mind my fitful rages, <br />The sound of a key turning in a lock. <br />Twenty boys in a dormitory large, <br />Beds neatly arranged in rows. <br />A woman vicious and in charge, <br />Dealing out deftly savage blows. <br />Tears running silently down my cheeks, <br />No peace for an unhappy mind. <br />Terror that lasted unending weeks, <br />With never a word that was kind. <br />From the age of three until I was eight, <br />Violence ruled my unhappy days. <br />I was ever in a stage of hate, <br />With my mind turning in a terrible craze. <br />I was classified as a troublemaker, <br />Me a child mental grim and upset. <br />Some one to love me there was no taker, <br />I was not the young boy to pet. <br />At the age of nine war was declared, <br />I was evacuated to a peaceful town. <br />For a family life I was not prepared, <br />And my hatred let me once more down. <br />I was placed with families that were kind, <br />My upbringing had left me suspicious. <br />I could not regain my peace of mind, <br />So I remained a child quite vicious. <br />Then came the day that I was kindly received, <br />Made welcome in a family that was normal. <br />It was here that I finally perceived, <br />That love was something not formal. <br />I settled down at last my mind at rest, <br />I enjoyed the privilege of having a home. <br />Here in this family I gave of my best, <br />I had found that love is not just foam.<br /><br />Bernard Shaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/childish-memories/
