He was a momma's boy.
And he treated me as his toy.
To him, I was just a ragdoll toy.
That could take a good beating.
Sometimes his beatings came so hard that I could hardly crawl. I would bawl.
He liked to hit me right in the center of the stomach that left me pleading.
You would have thought with his mental imbalance that he was an inbred poorboy. He was no wonder boy.
He was a mean spoiled Mommas boy.
He would have me sit down and tell me how he secretly planned to destroy his toy,
It is shocking even if you reading about it in a poem. Well written
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad story. Felt bad knowing the abusive terror, the 'Momma's Boy'!