Two Worlds of a Child

The poem I must write His shadow dark, appeared at the door, Lingering, as each word was angry, loud. "Come here!" I went with all speed, it was to slow. A slap on the head, to a floor I did know.. He reached for the strap, that hung on the door. Sounds from the beating, I hear to this day. I prayed for the moment, he'd walk away. Pain to my legs, Pain to my back. Tears from my eyes, long flowing tracks. Laid there in fear, rolled in a ball. I could not walk, I could not crawl. This monthly event when I was five, Glad I made it, glad I'm alive. Out of this year came a defiance of pain, It stays in my heart, there it remains. He made me cry, he made me sad, The man that was beating me, They called him my dad. The poem I wish I could write The glorious mornings came not for me, Yet brown eyes of mine claimed them as treasure. For I alone, suns rise and fall to see. To show the world my silhouette's measure. Giving this soul to the day's brighter cause, I bound my heart to this circling orb. Told the red sky to make the evenings pause. Chastised the dark for the light it absorbs. Given pure joy for the light of the day. The times I've cursed the dull grey of rain. I ran through green meadows a heart at play. My dad gave me freedom, love to sustain. To allow my spirit find precious light. He'll hold my tired body, till' sleep at night contest Through the Eyes of a child 8/31/15