i grew up in a house, not home, 5 different people, but i stood alone, no affection was shown,
never knew what it was like, to eat at the dinner table without fright, never knew how it felt to go to sleep at
night without tears in my eyes and bruises from a belt, i got got used to falling asleep to the sound of my moms
cries,when the kids asked what they were hearing, and why, i would lie, and say it was the t.v fortunately,
they believed me, i did my best to protect and take care of them,i did all i could, bandaged up my sisters when they got
blisters, tucked in my bothers tightly under the covers, i tried to give them some kinda childhood, but there was no
way to get, away from that nightmare, that takes place on the other side of the door, its not fair, to have to here,
my mom scream in pain every night as shes thrown to the floor, over and over again, by the man she used to adore, the
man we are supposed to call daddy, a happy family is what we would be, she told me, sadly, that was just imaginary,
this Is what has become my reality, as bad as it seems, it only get worse, my only escape from my brutality, is in my dreams
the schools nurse, would question me, about the bruises and injuries, and the scars the covered my knees, i played
it off as if they were accidents, in fear of what could happen if i were to tell her the truth about my parents,
i didn't know i was that good at pretending, or maybe they could read the signs i was sending, i cried out for attention
but all that got me was another suspension, witch lead to phone calls, informing the adults i had got into trouble,
going back to that hell concealed by four walls, would be anything but humble, the adults cant wait to rumble, i made a
promise to myself that no matter how long the fight, no matter how hard the strike, ill never show fright, or ever
let out one tear,ill never again give them the satisfaction, as seeing pain as my reaction, i wont give in, ill
just pretend, I'm invincible when you through me to the ground, i will keep you from you victory, ill never let you
see, how you hurt me, tolerance, is my best defense, its common sense, your goal is to make me cry, and beg you to
stop swinging, but when you realize I'm not pleading, you stop, and i keep breathing, one more night, clueless about
how ill turn out in the next fight, people like say i had a rough childhood, i guess, but no words,
can express, those 15 years,and no numbers can count all those hidden tears, you can think what you want of me,
label my life how ever it is you might see, but i refuse to hear your sympathy, don't feel sorry, don't feel sad, don't
even get mad, whats done is done,i moved on,theres no changing whats already a fact, i stayed Strong, walked along,
i never ever looked back.
