He was a momma’s boy.
And he treated me as his toy.
To him I was just a ragdoll.
That could take a good beating.
Sometimes his beatings came so hard that I could hardly crawl.
He liked to hit me right in the center of the stomach.
It always left me feeling horrible.
Like I was going to throw-up,
I was his ragdoll that wouldn’t give-up.
I had problems with my stomach muscles.
And there were times that I couldn’t even raise myself up.
But this was the life of a ragdoll toy.
Sometimes he would pull my hair.
So hard that he would leave it on the floor,
It didn’t seem like momma really cared.
Then he would kick me.
Or spit on me.
Momma would just shake her redhead.
There were times I thought he was going to knock off my head.
I wasn’t sure how long a ragdoll toy could last.
Because he could move so fast,
I was just a little ragdoll in his crazy hands.
That never understood his plans.
On how he was going to destroy this ragdoll toy,
He said he was going to take me to the lake.
And tie my hands and feet to cement blocks.
And I would sink like heavy rocks.
And mom and dad would never see my golden locks.
I figured he would.
Because he would do anything he could.
To his little ragdoll toy,
That prayed God would free her from a crazy boy.
Being a bad momma’s boy!
I learned early on I was just a broken toy.
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