Haunted...

Everytime I close my eyes.
I can see the four year old boy that cries.
As he watches his mom and a peice of him dies.
Tears of sorrow rain from his face.
And to him he's lost his place.
Living in a broken home.
To him he's all alone.
There is no light.
And he gets beat night after night.
To his moms boyfriend he can't do anything right.
Just the sight.
Of him around.
Or just the sound.
That he makes when he's there.
Is enough to get out of his chair.
And pull out the belt.
But hey, that's how his cards got dealt.
God has a plan for him.
Esspecially after the belt hits his skin.
Time and time again.
He might stop hitting him every now and then.
Tears stream from his eyes.
But he doesn't make a sound as he cries.
Any sound drives him to hit harder.
After awhile the boy gets smarter.
No noise at all.
Just take the hit, and take the fall.
Don't mind the bottle of R and R in his hand.
Just keep in mind god has a plan.
Some plan, how can he let him do this to me.
Apparently my pain is something he can't see.
My arm won't move.
And right now it don't seem like I have much to lose.
I take a look at my arms.
And all I can see is red marks.
The boy grabs a pack of cigarettes sitting on the coffe table.
Maybe these will keep him stable.
The parent drank himself sick.
But the boy is only six.
The parent is passed out on the couch.
So I grab the cigarettes and maybe they will calm me down.
I watch the match ignite.
Just from that one strike.
This is a moment in my life.
That was only one day.
Since then I wish god would cast those two away.
But that's how I got it.
And that's the same reason my dreams are haunted...