Child Coping with the Past
He's only seven, but, his life is turned inside out.
He sits and pouts.
No one loves me.
I no longer have a sister or brother.
I can't even see my real mother.
No one even likes me.
It was all, my dad's fault.
Because of his assault,
Against me and my brother,
He was real mean,
But, not my mother,
When, I grow up.
He's going to feel my judgment.
For all the times, he hurt me.
And my sister and brother,
When he sees my fist,
In his face, I'll make him feel disgrace,
That man is on my bucket list.
Unless God shows him grace.
It's my real dad's fault that my sister, and brother, and me, have been moved from place to place.
That we were thrown into the foster care system, because he was mean to us.
He's why my life is a mess.
He's the reason my emotions regress.
And, I have a hard time making progress.
That man hurt me.
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