Count 1 … Not guilty

Count 2 … Not guilty

Count 3 … Not guilty

Count 4 … Not guilty

Count 5 … Not guilty


My heart sinks like an anchor to the bottom of the sea.

No reaction can be shown,

for it is against what is known as the courthouse rules.

I watch the destroyer of 15 years of my life

Walk away holding his head high,

Smiling because he got away with it three times.


Overwhelming sadness and anger build

Scenes play over and over in my life

Like a CD stuck on replay refusing to go to the next song.

I laid there bare while he pumped false dreams

Brainwashing me with secrets and rumors of falsified feelings.

You’re a pervert

And it isn’t my fault!

You stole MY innocence

And all I got was a year sentence?

What type of crap is this?

God why take me this far and we lose?

What was the point of all this?

Not just in the physical abuse.

You enjoy the torment

You enjoy the secret tears

Opening of old scars.

You watch from the shadows wanting me to slip

And give you the satisfaction of me

Suffering in silence.

Not mentioning another word of it.

I will scream it to the heavens until I’m heard.

What you did, was wrong.

And mark my words you will pay.


And to my family who stood by this pervert.

Count your days of peace,

It only lasts so long.

I hope I get to see everything you get in return

From standing with someone who preys and does harm.

Watch him groom little girls

Use and abuse them.

When the days comes

And that little girl comes to you with teary eyes, and says


Look at her the same way you did me and tell her

“I don’t believe you”

“He didn’t mean to.”


She’ll never heal with family members like you,

I never thought I could hate you. But I do.

And so….

The generation of bad blood continues.

This poem is about: 
My family


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741