Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Mark's Poem Archive - 15. A Memory
It's uneditted, I just needed to get it out of my head and onto paper.
One Memory
I sit in a pushchair, it is my cage
All around me I see only rage
It’s my entire fault, I am to blame,
Why did they even give me a name?
My name is Mark, not slug or sin,
Should I really be in the bin?
It’s what she wanted after all
I was just a white slime ball.
The harness held me so secure
It cut my skin, and made me sore
With bandaged hands, I sat and cried
I was good, I really tried
A devil child, was what they said
A six fingered freak that should be dead
That was her proof, I was Satan’s seed
All her cronies condoned and agreed.
I would never know kindness, love or respect
I only knew beatings, pain and neglect
Now grown up, I fight so hard
My mind and body badly scarred
To show my face, accept a hug, a kiss
It’s so hard, I’ve never done this
So help me please I beg of you
Just give me time, it’s all so new.
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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