
More bits of my life. I just want to say that the question in the poem is not rhetorical; I'd like people to answer it in a comment. I don't care how much time passes after this has been posted. I'd like reminders of the answer.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Poetry/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 133 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 1 - Published: 12-26-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3086314
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My Scars
These scars I hide
Are filled with pain
Of all the things people did
That keep me chained.
The first time Daddy slapped me
And got angry when I cried.
That was the dayWhen my respect for him started to die.
At the campgrounds
Where Mother did the same.
She didn't care that she hurt me
And felt no shame.
When Grandma turned against me
Who was once the only one on my side.
I became so alone
And all I wanted to was cry.
From being bullied all my life
But thinking 'Things will get better, surely'
Yet things have been so hard.
Do I deserve to be treated so cruelly?
Every hit, every word, goes so far
Though they don't see it
Everything they do leaves scars.
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