I remember, when he was drunk,
he would hold me down,
he would go inside of me,
and warn me not to tell.
I didn't know what was happening,
I thought that's where it belonged,
then one day I realized,
this kind of love was wrong.
The next time he tried it,
I told him 'NO! '
but I was only eight,
I had no control...
I pleaded no,
I begged him to stop,
but he wouldn't listen,
til I called the cops.
He never quit til I got moved,
the he still tried to come,
so I lived through ages 4-9,
with the wrong kind of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it was such a sad story but life must go on but you need to fight if this is what is needed to have a better life. take care, melvin