STOP THE ABUSE, and another sad story.
17 years & 3 days ago
7th Nov 2007 13:14 My name is Becky
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,
I must be stupid
I must be bad,
What else could have 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 aren't 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 Becky
And I am but three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.
There are thousands of kids out there just like Becky.
And you can help.
Sickens me to my soul, and if you just read this and don't pass it on I pray for your forgiveness, cause you would have to be one heartless person to not be effected by this story. And because you are effected, do something about it!! So all I am asking you to do, is take some time to send this on and acknowledge that this stuff does happen, and that people like her dad do live in our society, and I pray for child abuse to wither out and die, but also pray for the safety of our youth.
Please pass this poem on because as crazy as it might
sound, it might just indirectly change a life. Hey, you NEVER know.
Please put this on your site if you are *~*~*AGAINST CHILD ABUSE *~*~* a little poem
Sad Poem
I got this from someone else:
TARGET IS A SAD PLACE
I found this somewhere,very sad
I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a Cashier hand this little boy some money back.
The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old.
The Cashier said, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll."
Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: ''Granny,
are you sure I don't have enough money?''
The old lady replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''
Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly.
The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.
"It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas.
She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."
I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.
But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there."
His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.''
My heart nearly stopped.
The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall."
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me."
"I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.
I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check
again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''
"OK" he said, "I hope I do have enough." I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.
The little boy said: "Thank you God for giving me enough money!"
Then he looked at me and added, "I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!''
"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.''
"My mommy loves white roses."
A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket.
I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.
I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.
Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young
woman and a little girl.
The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical
state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the
life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news paper that the young woman had passed away.
I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.
I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed for ever.. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is
still, to this day, hard to imagine.
And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.