Pictures of when I was a kid.
Images and memories of what I did.
I did nothing to deserve what I got.
Now I sit here and I'm lost.
Walking ease's the pain.
Walking makes my memories drain.
All of a sudden I feel pain no more.
I let the picture drop to the floor.
A picture of my birthday.
A certain hate arose on that day.
The day that I was beaten.
For exactly no reason.
I could feel the marks on my back.
Right after everything I saw went black.
I could smell the alcohol in his breath.
After he beat me he layed down to rest.
R&R is what he had.
This is the person I'm supposed to call dad.
My dad wouldn't hit me like that.
He would hit me with a belt in the back.
Those scars run deep.
They haunt me when I sleep.
When I was a kid I should have died.
Getting beat messed me up inside.
Outside I looked fine.
Inside I had already crossed the line.
Flinching at every shadow.
Not knowing where to go.
I turned to someone showing trust.
Little did I know that it would later bust.
Busted by the man that beat me.
Leaving me with nothing but black to see.
I could feel the hurt and pain.
Pain caused by my disdain.
A waste of someone.
Soon turned into no-one.
God, Where were you then?
Will you let it happen again?
I'm older and stronger.
Nobody will hit me any longer.
I had to answer my own prayers.
Only because you weren't there.
Some miricle.
All I received then was ridicule.
God, Why do you hate me so?
On the inside my hate begins to glow.
No love from my mom.
That left me waiting like a timebomb.
Waiting to explode.
Waiting to unload.
All my anger and frustration.
All my laughter and humiliation.
I still can't think of what I did.
Especially when I almost got jumped as a kid.
I got beat and didn't want anymore.
I could hear my mom screaming from the other side of the door.
Touch either of us again.
I'll bring back the memories of then.
Still nobody can hear my silent screams.
Still no-one can see my dark dreams...
