my father tried to scar me for life
deep inside of me this psychological strife
he vented all his frustration on me
my mother turned a blind eye, pretended not to see
he hated me for reasons I could not comprehend
i was the little girl that nobody cared to defend
home was not home but living hell
my time in school, a welcome spell
society saw him as man, smiling, debonair
wooing people around him with flair
I cannot bring myself to write in verse the abuse and harassment I endured as a child..I started writing poetry at age five and kept a book of all that came into my head.over the years the book grew fat in volume, I mean, I am telling you this because when I came to grade ten, i had a whole lot of poetry.of course, I couldn’t lug the book to school everday.one day i get back from school and I find my book of poems gone..I have never been so desperate in my life.I searched the house frantically and finally found the burnt embers in the fireplace..I did not even confront him..I was too broken that day to say a word..
But the brazen abuse continued..If the man who gave birth to you tries to sexually abuse you, what are you going to do? I was thrown out of the house on several occasions, often I would sit in the darkness of the night cold and hungry, waiting for him to sleep so that I could slip back into the house..At sixteen,I looked like crazy for a place to stay. Finally, I found a hostel run by the roman nuns, they denied me a place initially but after a lot of pleading they let me stay for a fee..
Because of the continued support of the blogging community here, I have been able to talk about this..I have been wanting to let go for a long time now..I think a year here has helped me, made me believe in the goodness of humanity again..
That is a huge sigh of relief from me, I am so happy I shared this..