A lady came today
To ask me how my life is
I looked at her with desperate eyes
And lied.
With mother glaring down at me,
And this pleasant little lady
I lied.
I told her everything was fine
I lied.
I didn't mention the bruises
Or the many handprints
That mother had left on my skin
I lied
I didn't mention
My nights of hunger
Or sleep loss from the parties
I lied
I didn't mention
my new "daddy"
Nor his prying hands
I lied
I didn't mention
the stuff I see
The needles and the straws
And now? I regret it.
I wish I hadn'tve lied
But with mother glaring down at me
What else was I to do?
I couldn't tell the truth,
Not with mother watching.
Her eyes told me plainly what would happen
So I lied.
And now, I regret it.
This is a poem about a memory. The first time CPS came to my house.
I was 11.