This is the House

This is the house of sadness

This is the house so shiny and new, with the lovely shutters and a
garden too.
A lovely house for a family to share, where memories are made without
thought or care.

This is the room where it all began, a tiny cot and a shining
pram.

The baby cries; not from hunger but fear.
The baby cries but no-one can hear.

And so it goes on year upon year .......

The cot and the pram are replaced by a bed, not warm and soft but vile
instead.

This is the child hiding under the bed, a child so scared and full of
dread.
This is the child whose hair is caught in the springs, whose heart
pounds so loudly but can never sing.

This is the child feeling sick to the stomach.. whose wet through with
fear but knows that makes no difference,

This is the child whose little heart now beats so fast
whose little brain screams how long will this last?

This is the child who pleads and says sorry, for not wanting to cuddly
and do what they say is jolly.

This is the child whose bed has now gone,no more hiding underneath now,
no safety at all.
This is the child who can't lock the door because thats now been
taken..got to live by their law

This is the room where it all began, where others knew and did nothing
at all.
Told the child it was bad, ungrateful and cruel, shut up those tears
you're over emotional.

This is the child so hurt and confused.
This is the child whose repeatedly abused.

This is the child who grows to adult form, who never tells for fear of
scorn.
Believing that they are to blame, forever living with the shame.

This is the house I wish I could burn, I wish I could speak out so
others might learn.
The sadness doesn't go when the ashes are cleared, this house of
sadness will live on for years.
It lives deep inside me like a demon to abide, I am forever frightened
with nowhere to hide.