I saw the kid, walk through the door <br />dragging his books, across the floor. <br /> <br />To tired to make it, too his room <br />so she hit him hard, with the broom. <br /> <br />He sat on his bed and started to cry <br />but no one was around, to ask him why. <br /> <br />He holds his head up and tries to read <br />but does no good, he's too tired to see. <br /> <br />His head is hurting, from the night before <br />from the busted, when he hit the floor. <br /> <br />He wants to eat, but there's no food <br />makes you wonder, why they can be so rude. <br /> <br />He don't understand, why they are so mean <br />why they can't wash and keep him clean. <br /> <br />Goes to school, to get away from home <br />so he doesn't have, to feel he's alone. <br /> <br />He tries to hide it, from all his peers <br />the pain he suffered, through the years. <br /> <br />All the torture, they gave to him <br />I pray to God, he gives to them. <br /> <br />But now he lives, his life with that pain <br />of all the things that drives him insane. <br /> <br />This is no way, for a child to live <br />there's so much love, he wanted to give.<br /><br />Tracy Rollings<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-pain-child-abuse/
