Typical Sunday

Sundays for us as family were usually days of rest,

Off to Church we'd go dressed in our Sunday best.

We didn't have suits and ties to wear like others did,

Put down by the Pastor, plain shirts and pants forbid!

I've said before on Sunday I did like to roam,

Staying with Grandma not wanting to go home.

Yes, I was naughty but as for trouble, I did not,

I knew what lie ahead and the spankings that I got.

My Grandma protected me from my angry Dad.

She was my "Protector", the only one I had.

I remember sneaking off and going to the woods,

I didn't get in trouble and yet no one understood.

We'd climb on a caboose and maybe light a flare,

We didn't bother anyone and didn't have a care!

I relish younger days and exploring of my past,

Wishing back those days hoping they would last.

Brandywine Falls was just one stomping ground,

Now a National Park, youth of today cannot be around.

I thought that I was good, Yet trouble I got in,

That is when punishment for wrong doing did begin.

At the age of 8 is when I started to act out,

My parents had no clue as to what it was about.

It was at that age when the cloud that hung was doom,

I had been molested in the confines of my room.

Not knowing what to do because he had threatened me,

To smother with a pillow or hang me from a tree.

A knife held to my throat and told me he would use,

For his perverted ways as he continued to abuse.

A group of guys just sitting in a circle all around,

He ordered to partake with my knees on the ground.

Had my Grandma or Father knew what was being done,

He would have been finished before all this begun!

Because of who I am, I knew I must forgive,

That was the only way I could move on and live.

It was shortly after when my Father passed away,

Outing him I did, to keep others from harm's way.

Although he is related to my Dear, Sweet Mother,

I can't stand the fact that maybe he'd done to another.

Youngsters of his Church, he was the head Preacher,

I don't think that I would want this person as a teacher.

He must be held accountable for his heinous deed,

I know that God will be his Judge for sure, indeed!

As you can see this poem is not what you had thought,

My mind just goes racing and tis the subject that be sought.

Now you know a little more of the life I had,

Most of it happy and yet, some of it so sad.

I never want to see his face or be around at all,

However, I would like to be there should he fall.

He has no interaction with any of the Family,

Because of that one reason, as you can plainly see.

My Mother had been ill and while she was on the mend,

Not a letter or a call to her, nor flowers did he send.

I know that he is angry, for the words that I had said,

I want nothing more than to put this thing to bed.

It's over now and I know there's nothing I can do,

I just want you all to know that Predators are out there too.

This poem was to be of a Sunday, that was typical,

And then turned out to be something more unusual.

That is how I write, as these words just come to mind,

Although something totally different, wording that I find.

You will find that later on, I will write of this Travesty,

I'll try to stay on subject when the words flow out of me.

Thank you all who read this story that had gotten out of text,

I will try to stay on track with the writing I do next!