The Dark Side of Life
Many of us poets on this board have our dark side of
life and I am included in the dark side.
Depression is physically and mentally debilitating, but
add to this mental and physical abuse at a young age,
with not a soul to turn to, then my friends you have a
problem.
As a child and one of eight
I knew the meaning
A parents hate
For some unknown reason
I did not fit
Odd-Bod, the family freak
Pee the bed, the whipping boy
The ugly figure head
Nothing but hate
In my first years on Earth
From a mother
Who wished I had died at birth
In those long tormented years
I cried a vast ocean
And a river of tears
My screams of pain
And pleads to stop
But the beatings
On bare flesh
Was a pleasure she got
A sadistic woman, with pure
Hate in her eyes
Burned me with pokers
Nearly beat me to death
Shut me in a coal cellar
At the height of the war
Hoping the Germans
Would blow me to bits
Some kind hearted neighbours
Rescued me from it
The beatings went on
In the dark youthful days
By a woman called mother
Who called me a freak
Depression malnutrition
Unloved and quite weak
She despised her young son
For reasons unknown
But sadly I find
A black sheep
In lots of our homes
Peter Wicks
Time is the best healer and man it takes time
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