Psychological Compromise

I went to the mailbox Much to my dismay I would've rather had smallpox Than what I found today I may sound dramatic And I guess that is true But what I found so traumatic You sounded so blue Did it cross your mind As I curled in your womb That the people I'd find Couldn't deal with your bloom Did you find some compassion When you ran with the wind Did you dress in high fashion Or the flower child trend I hate that my screaming Got under your skin One nurse was redeeming So the doctor dropped in Now I will tell you The source of our pain Was a clavicle fracture With a nerve induced strain This poem is of childhood And all it entails I won't create falsehood For truth always sales Don't put your guilt and pity on me Or whatever you felt in the latter You'll never recall the flower I'll be Came from mental abuse, hate and batter