Ok, this is a pretty corny poem, especially at the end. But it's sad, and it's true, and really got to me. In general I don't like poems that try to prove a point against something, in this case, child abuse. But... yeah, I think this one's well written and has a good structure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Chris

 

 

 

I am three,

 

 

 

My eyes are swollen

 

 

 

I cannot see,

 

 

 

I must be stupid

 

 

 

I must be bad,

 

 

 

What else could have made

 

 

 

My daddy so mad?

 

 

 

I wish I were better

 

 

 

I wish I weren't ugly,

 

 

 

Then maybe my mommy

 

 

 

Would still want to hug me.

 

 

 

I cant do a wrong

 

 

 

I cant speak at all

 

 

 

Or else im locked up

 

 

 

All day long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I'm awake I'm all alone

 

 

 

The house is dark

 

 

 

My folks arent home

 

 

 

When my mommy does come home

 

 

 

I'll try and be nice,

 

 

 

So maybe I'll just get

 

 

 

One whipping tonight.

 

 

 

I just heard a car

 

 

 

My daddy is back

 

 

 

From Chariles bar.

 

 

 

I hear him curse

 

 

 

My name is called

 

 

 

I press myself

 

 

 

Against the wall

 

 

 

I try to hide

 

 

 

From his evil eyes

 

 

 

Im so afraid now

 

 

 

I'm starting to cry

 

 

 

He finds me weeping

 

 

 

Calls me ugly words,

 

 

 

He says its my fault

 

 

 

He suffers at work.

 

 

 

He slaps and hits me

 

 

 

And yells at me more,

 

 

 

I finally get free

 

 

 

And run to the door

 

 

 

He's already locked it

 

 

 

And I start to bawl,

 

 

 

He takes me and throws me

 

 

 

Against the hard wall

 

 

 

I fall to the floor

 

 

 

With my bones nearly broken,

 

 

 

And my daddy continues

 

 

 

With more bad words spoken,

 

 

 

"I'm sorry!" I scream

 

 

 

But its now much to late

 

 

 

His face has been twisted

 

 

 

Into a unimaginable shape

 

 

 

The hurt and the pain

 

 

 

Again and again

 

 

 

Oh please God, have mercy!

 

 

 

Oh please let it end!

 

 

 

And he finally stops

 

 

 

And heads for the door

 

 

 

While I lay there motionless

 

 

 

Sprawled on the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Chris

 

 

 

I am three,

 

 

 

And tonight my daddy

 

 

 

Murdered me

 

 

 

And you can help.

 

 

 

And if you read this

 

 

 

and don't pass it on

 

 

 

I pray for your forgivness

 

 

 

Because you would have to be

 

 

 

One heartless person

 

 

 

To not be affected

 

 

 

By this poem.

 

 

 

So do something about it,

 

 

 

I'm only asking for a simple thing

 

 

 

PASS IT ON!

That is very...bad poetry. Though most of the middle of the poem, it seemed to relate alot more to a dog being abused rather than a child.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The message is just though, I would pass it on but I don't do chain letters.

 

 

 

Since you did not write it there is not alot of real input on improvement that I can do.