You looked so big to me
That Summer in Oregon
I was only four when we
Followed you into isolation
New Hampshire seemed a world away
All ties to home and family
Shrank and faded in the rear view
Hoping new & different...would be
I left my doll outside that day
Then lied to keep my fault a secret
Your belt, that slipping sound
I still hear to this day
Spare the rod and spoil the child
Was popular back then
Americans had a right to raise up
God fearing children with discipline
The problem is you got it wrong
God disciplines, it's true
But love's the stronger, key component
One you rarely demonstrated
If truth had been a better choice
My shame exposed, as was my skin
Would I have escaped your wrath
And be now somehow changed?
She made the choice to live with you
Sadly it was a package deal
One for which I've paid the price
A remarkable value nonetheless...
My children never heard the sound
Of leather belt and buckle strap
Spare the child and spoil the rod
Have been my choice instead
A continuation of my earliest childhood experiences. My mother dealt with mental and emotional abuse from my stepfather, who had adopted me when he married her. To her it meant security. For me it began many years of physical abuse as well as the mental and emotional scars. Sadly, she left him many times, only to return. I began running away at the age of six and left home by age 14. Unfortunately she is still with him today. He is still mentally and verbally abusive to her. He suffered a stroke and now she feels duty bound to take care of him. I am an only child and I am disabled and can't do much to help get her out of there. So this forum is my only outlet. Please pardon my drama.
