The Little Persecuted

POPPET

My name is Chris,
My age is three years,
My eye is swollen…

I can not see.
I must be a fool,
I must be a naughty child,
Moreover, who can make,
My father became angry.

I wish I was better,
I wish I was not bad,
So maybe my mom,
Will still hug me.

I can not make mistakes,
I'm not allowed to speak at all,
Or ..I will be locked up,
All day.

When I wake up,
I am alone,
This house is very dark,
My family is not home.

When my mother came home,
I try to be good,
So I might just get,
One lash at night.

I just heard the sound of a car,
My father just came home,
From Discotheque ....

I heard his curse,
My name is called,
I suppress myself,
Docked.

I try to hide,
From his evil eye,
I'm so scared now,
I started to cry.

She found me crying,
Calling me with bad words,
He said that it was all my fault,
For his suffering at the office.

He slapped me and hit me,
And shouting more to me,
Finally I can be free,
And run to the door.

He's already locked the door,
I started screaming hysterically,
He pulled me and threw me,
On the walls of the rooms were loud.

I fell down the floor,
With a broken bone,
And my father is still on,
With more dirty words spoken.

"Forgive me, Daddy" I shouted,
But it was too late,
His face has changed,
Being an unimaginable form.

Suffering and pain,
Again and again…
Oh God, give your mercy,
Oh..Let this quickly pass.

And finally He stopped,
And heading to the door of the room,
As I lay there, unable to move,
Lying on the floor.

My name is Chris,
My age is three years,
This malaM is my father,
Kill me.

Open netra look ...
Little one who is innocent spoiled
Should be happy to suffer
It is wrong for them to be pounced on by the jungle
They hold the hands of sinners
Sometimes being persecuted is tortured
Made a cryless cry of prey
There is no use for misery in his life
The pain is borne by who should be loved
Noticed torn apart without protection
Not caress but torture
Give love to the little one
Hairstyles dear they give happy