Slave Driver Poem by Nicholas Wayde Turner

Everything in me says 'Stop' but the fear in me says keep yourself alive.

Ever since I can remember, I've been terrified of messing up.

Because in my house, messing up was unheard of.

My head was always bogged down with the fear if getting hit.

I would set there some days in total panic hoping that he was in a good mood that day.

Toys flew, dishes broke, holidays were ruined.

I would walk around the corner peeking around hoping he wouldn't see me.

Sometimes if he saw, I would become his personal slave.

'Go get my socks, go get my boots. '

'These aren't the boots I wanted.'

Nothing was ever good enough.

And nothing ever will be.