The Blog Farm

The Blog Farm

Monday, June 4, 2012


Did my mother 
Really love me
When she whacked 
Me hard that day,
My knees were scraped
 And bleeding
No, “I'm sorry,”
 Did she say.

She'd shake me hard
 And tell me
How stupid and
 Dumb I was
I'd cringe but
 I believed it
And would often
 Wonder why.

She'd lock me outside
 in the winter time,
I didn't know
 Where to go,
So I'd just cry and 
Stay out in the backyard
Hours freezing 
Out in the snow.

Some kids had
 Birthday parties
I never 
Remembered one,
No birthday cake
 To share, so sad
It would have 
Been so much fun.

I love you” is
 So hard for me
To even say today,
I never heard
 It growing up
Why did it happen
To me this way.

My dad would 
Take me fishing
And that was 
So much fun,
But he still found 
Time to abuse me
I was scared, 
No-where to run.

I wished I felt
 Some anger
So I could have 
Screamed at him, 
But I didn't have 
It in me to say
You're a bastard, go to hell!!!

As I write my inner 
Thoughts and words,
I feel sorry for 
What I have said,
But I need to 
Express my feelings
Or they will explode
 Right in my head.

There's so many things
 I need to say
To both you my
 Mom and dad,
But now it's to late
 To tell you
That I wasn't
 Really bad.

Mom, I know 
I haven't visited
Your grave site
 Much this year,
I feel
 So very guilty
Too many memories
 Are what I fear.

Dad I'm sorry
 I have yet to come
To your grave 
Since you have died,
But you were
 My abuser
And my question 
That I ask is WHY.

Why did you hurt
 My little self
She cared, love 
Is what she did give,
Now she's lost,
 I can't reach out to her
You've drained
 Her will to live.

She sits and cries 
In loneliness
No future 
Does she see,
I just can't forgive 
You for what you did
You damaged 
That child in me.

 Mary Graziano ©
June 3, 2012

These words that I wrote was my inner child crying out wanting answers to why she and other children like her endured so much pain growing up. The emptiness she feels inside crushes her very soul, and my adult self is crushed beyond belief because I can't reach out and hug and tell her everything is going to be ok. Abuse of any kind is so very damaging to little children, and is so hard to repair, and as adults we feel their hurt and I think the only way to be a survivor is to be able to save them and tell them that they are safe now and can be free from the heartache that they feel inside.

1 comment:

Patricia Singleton said...

This poem is you being in touch with your inner child. Those are her words that she couldn't say when she was being abused. She can say them now.