Why Jesus, please tell me why? What have I done that was so bad? It hurts me so much that I cry. Don't they care about feelings I have? A small child all battered and bruised hides quietly in the closet. For him, this is nothing at all new, but he's still frightened by each hit. He can't run, only plays Hide-n-seek and listens carefully until those footsteps get closer as they creak. And they will find him, they always will. He's so scared to tell anyone and often wonders what he did wrong. Sometimes he prays to the Lord above asking that the next time won't last so long. First, it is an accident at the park and next, a fall down the stairs. A good excuse to leave others in the dark so no one really knows what's going on there. Because of fear and ignorance, no one steps in to protect him. He will lose all hope and the chances to live on will become very slim. Someday soon it will be too late. He will give up when he's had enough. Telling the Lord he can no longer wait he whispers, Lord take me where there's love. Why Jesus, please tell me why? What have I done that was so bad? It hurts me so much that I cry. Don't they care about feelings I have? Copyright June 24, 1998 by Bobbie J. Brown
Reason for writing:
I wanted to share how I think life must be for an abused child. This poem is dedicated to those innocent children who were helpless and taken by abuse.
Birth sign: Scorpio
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