The Afflicted


Now, I don't want this poem to be thrown in a big pile of others with a similar meaning.

I want whoever hands this lands in to understand what i'm saying and feel what they're reading.

I know you see it in the newspapers and on the news.

Six-year old beaten to death, Eight-year old's teacher finds another purple bruise.

Discipline or Child Abuse?

Oh, the many different opinions.

From, 'spare the rod, spoil to child'

to, 'verbal discipline is more effective with children'

Who's to say which is right?

But I've never heard 'you're grounded' lead to someone losing a life.

Hey, maybe I'm just naive.

Unaware of the struggles of parenting.

Still, I dont believe a baby could anger someone so much that they deserve a brutal beating.

I know I'm not one to judge, I'm no saint

But who could keep inflicting pain as a child's screams grew faint?

Then take a shower, get in the bed, and go to sleep that night.

Maybe even toss the body in the river, drop the child in a trashcan, out of sight. 

It brings tears to my eyes

Imagining the child's cries.

Defenseless, helpless

Then lifeless, breathless

Some are saved.

For others, it's too late.

These abused children have no voice.

No choice

But to accept the abuse

And pray for deliverance

Whether through the justice system or the Holy Spirit.

I want to be the voice of the suffering.

The voice of the afflicted.

To hear me is to hear them.

Through every single word,

They need to be heard!








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