I used to cry myself to sleep at night.
I used to hold my teddy bear tight.
When I heard my parents fight.
I wish I could've made everything right.
Daddy would yell, mommy would too.
For a while I thought it was right to do.
And then I knew that Daddy was wrong.
It wasn't fair that Mommy wasn't strong.
I'd hear him hit her, I'd hear glass break.
Those were the sounds I grew to hate.
I hated the way Daddy made her feel.
And before sleep, at my bed I would kneel.
And pray to a God I've never met,
But hoping my prayers he would get.
I'd pray, "Oh God, why is Daddy so mad?
What makes him think that Mommy is bad?
I love them both but this is enough.
Why does Daddy have to be so rought?
Bless them and keep them, and help with this problem.
For I alone cannot solve them."
I crossed myself and crawled back to bed.
Listening to the words I most dread.
Then I hear the sound of the door.
Hoping I'll never see Daddy no more. |
