'never a child'
By christy
You were the first born, a slave, a babysitter, an excuse, but never a child. You were a whipping post, a sharpening stone, a reflection of your father's failure, but never a child. At six you chopped wood, hauled water for bathing, dressed your siblings in Good Will treasures, stitched your own suffering with trembling fingers while he rinsed blood from an extension cord. You were tiny and frightened, but never a child. From time to time a darkness creeps over your face, deepening the lines that remained when the rivers dried. I know you are there again, pissing your pants, shaking, hating your memories. What is lost will never return the same way matches strike but once, and death will never wake, Your innocence was stillborn. You will always be a man who was never a child.for my husband who survived an abusive childhood and can still appreciate the beauty of his own children. you are an amazing father, zane. Written March 4th, 2002 © on Mar 04 2002 07:14 AM PST 0 • 1
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"You were the first born,..."