Ode to Rest

Struck, battered, beaten, abused.

Terrified cry that comes to no ear,

or if it does, pointedly refused.

Only the night hears the child's fear.

Isolated from any genuine parental compassion.

Leading a life of concealed misery.

Face full of shame and heart of pain.

Cannot fly, yet pleading to flee.

Caught wearing length to hide the bruise fashion.

Desperately longing for that heavy hand's refrain.

Mother's face streaked with fearful tears.

Father of rage and vengeful fury.

Furniture scattered and shattered mirrors.

The blows land, child's future murky.

Suffering brute, scandal unending,

for no escape being presented.

Burden of shattered home to bear,

for a father's frustration poorly vented.

The last shadow, a final dull ring.

Error's found, too late to care.

I crawl from my corner,

so small, timid and frail.

My elder brother's only mourner

I take up his hand, limp, so pale.

Sirens now racing and  rising in my ears,

I am not afraid.

They come to take away my fears.