© Melissa Marie Young
When I was five and I remember
when a person became my dad.
His name was Bob and he was rough,
and I heard that he was bad.
First came all the yelling,
when I cried, He’d look and smirk.
Then came throwing me across the room
when he saw that it didn’t work.
When I wasn’t hungry
for not even a piece of bread,
the rule was “eat it or wear it”
and I had gravy on my head.
My parents always slept all day
which I thought was really cool.
I didn’t worry about the beating
when I first came home from school.
In school the kids made fun of me
but they didn’t even know.
That compared to life at home
it didn’t make me low.
As I thought, but should have known,
how much worse that things could get.
I never heard of this before
and it’s something I won’t forget.
Sometimes I would try to run
Somewhere where I could hide,
but then came the metal handcuffs
and in no person could I confide.
But I am happy about one thing
one thing got finally stored.
My hands were no longer tied
behind my back with the cord.
This is really bad enough
but there is plenty more.
I was handcuffed to a chair and my bed
as well as the knob of my door.
Bob’s dad would take advantage
while I wasn’t moving free,
He would go on with the touching
and he started molesting me.
This happened for 6 years
the secret kept so silent,
even though I had the marks
of a childhood so violent