When I see those around me make it work,
I wonder what it took for them to keep fighting?
What it took to keep pushing,
Now as my younger brother speaks on the Phone to me, and says
For around a month now i’ve been getting scuicidal thoughts,
the Only thing that stops me is going to Hell,
Now tell me what words echo into my skull and into my Soul?
What do I tell that child now, that I too, for 3 months have had the same bad feelings, maybe not on scuicide, more so on death and how I dont fear it,
What as an Adult am I supposed to do?
Because see, as an Adult I advise, and I help and I tell him its going to be okay right,
God oh Dear God,
What type of world is this, where children are beaten and bruised,
yet still live in houses that remain protected
Even despite prayers,
They remained harmed, and it is our challenge and our test to keep fighting,
Because this is what you call a Test,
And maybe I am not worthy of your prayer
and maybe this is a hurtful, malicious prayer,
But Please,
What am I supposed to tell that child,
See I am 6 years older than He,
Yet he has been traumatised in ways he should never have seen before
That body,
That strong body, that body built with anger, and quiet
and Skill, and Just.
Please tell me where there is humanity in a Home full of Abuse,
and Blood which lays guilty,
In punches full of vengence and heartache
Please tell me where hunger comes from the need of love,
and our bellys become so empty, that ulcers have no replaced them
Where I cannot prostrate on the ground to you anymore
PLEASE TELL ME.
I can be strong for him, I can be strong for them, I can be strong for my friends who hurt me
I can be strong for the family who love to see this crooked face smiling,
they love to see me smiling and working
Yet for me who, awho the fuck am I being strong for.
God forgive me for my Sins.
For I have wronged you.
But truly you have wronged these children,
And yet there are much worse off,,