Child abuse is wrong

I got this poem from Bride*To*Be’s diary. I think this should be read by everyone who ever thinks about abusing their kids. Read on…

My name is Misty I am but three,

My eyes are swollen I cannot see,

I must be stupid I must be bad,

What else could have made made my daddy so mad?

I wish I were better I wish I weren’t ugly,

Then maybe my mommy would still want to hug me.

I can’t speak at all I can’t do a wrong

Or else I’m locked up all the day long.

When I awake I’m all alone

The house is dark my folks arent home

When my mommy does come I’ll try and be nice,

So maybe I’ll get just one whipping tonight.

Don’t make a sound! I just heard a car

My daddy is back from Charlie’s Bar.

I hear him curse my name he calls

I press myself against the wall

I try and hide from his evil eyes

I’m so afraid now I’m starting to cry

He finds me weeping he shouts ugly words,

He says its my fault that he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me and yells at me more,

I finally get free And I run for the door.

He’s already locked it and I start to bawl,

He takes me and throws me against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor with my bones nearly broken,

And my daddy continues with more bad words spoken.

“I’m sorry!”, I scream but its now much too late

His face has been twisted into unimaginable hate

The hurt and the pain again and again

Oh please God, have mercy! Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops and heads for the door,

While I lay there motionless sprawled on the floor

My name is Misty and I am but three,

Tonight my daddy Murdered me.