WriteBeLight

For The Victims

If there’s one thing,

I could do, if I may,

Is offer my condolences,

To some on Mother’s Day.

 

Because not all,

Of this day, are happy.

All roses and sunshine,

Sticky sweet and sappy.

 

Instead, we feel,

For us, should be a day.

Somehow we survived,

The abuse, got away.

 

We were subjected to,

Our Mother’s wrath.

Stayed out of her way,

Never crossed her path.

 

Because if we did,

There’d be Hell to pay.

That’s why we want nothing,

To do with Mother’s Day.

 

I’m happy for those,

Who felt a Mom’s love.

With kisses and hugs,

Were held high above.

 

A Mom, when she looked,

At her child with pride.

No, not a Monster,

From whom you should hide.

 

For if you were found,

The beatings began.

With a belt or a paddle,

Or the back of her hand.

 

So, forgive me, but I,

Want to acknowledge those,

Who’d rather give their Mom,

The thorns from a rose.

 

And, for those kids,

Who didn’t escape,

I know they found love,

When they crossed Heaven’s Gate.