I wonder if they were there on any one of my childhood days…
If they would have even cared
Or would they have simply turned their heads
And gone their other ways…..

What would they have said if they watched while
my little body was tattered and torn…
How would they have felt……
Or would they simply walked away and scorned…

What would they have to tell me as my pride
was being stripped….
Or the times I’ve been so badly beaten
That my mind had almost flipped…

What would they say to me today if my stories
the could hear…..
Or would they simply walk away
And shudder with much fear….

I would have loved to walk away
At any given time….
I would have loved someone to make a call
But they couldn’t find the time….

My heart would ache, the tears would flow
But I couldn’t say a word….
Tortured, torn and tattered
I screamed, but no one heard…..

What is your price for freedom
From pain and agony…..
Mine is rather high these days
Because of a past that won’t set me free…

I carry with me , now my friends
Some constant company….
It comes in many sizes
And it will be sure to hear my next plea….