submitted by Jonathan Sexton

Could God Help Me?

Could God Help Me?
When I was struck down.
Watching my mother being posioned by a flower,
Sticking needles in the arm,
as if she called her savior.

Lost in the woods, Chained down,
To an iron crate, am I such a bad little boy?
To be beat again and again?
The blood runs thin from my mouth.

Thrown into the sewer like,
The piece of shit I am.
Starved nearly to death in jesus name,
Amen. Damn the Preacher’s hand.
He that condemned me to an awful numbness,
By beating the tears from my face.

Could I have changed? I was only 6

Would Jesus Sit me on his knee,
With all the other children?
Would he open his eyes to see?
Something different than the violence?
Abuse, the drugs and alcohol?

Could God save me?

While lying naked forced to suck
His minister off? And his son?
Could he have touched my life,
In not so perverse a way,
Instead, have given me faith?

Could God have saved me?

While saying grace, over an empty plate,
Eating from the left overs others waste?
Starring into the cold soul, of an overdose?
Watching so many dearly departed, in such awful ways?

Did he watch as I was raped?, Did he smile as he came?
Poisoning my drink? Some New Years party.
Or when, Some motherfucker, punched me square in the face,
Losing all my teeth, for trying to do the right thing,
And just walk away?

(God you can step in anytime…but…)
Could you have saved me?

As I laid naked in the street begging for release,
My my this drug has a hold on me.
Losing everything, but fear,
Fear of a dying man’s race. Could he?
When I lost my home, My job?
Again stranded in the streets
When My broken home, collapsed,
Heart broken, A man without a song.
Could he have saved?
Saved me, when he took love away,
Its long journey south of this place.
With amazing grace…
Could he?
NO! he just turned his head and walked away.

NO MORE, NO MORE

The Child cries, “No More! No more!”

The beatings never stop,
Till it’s to late,
Love is taught in many ways,
Pain maybe Hate,

With broken wings,
Angels cannot fly,
Beaten and raped,
Prepared to die,

Such is the child’s screams in the night….

All unheard…

“No More! No more!”
Bleeding, the pain still hurts,
His mother has raped his soul,
A body…bruised, and broken.
A heart that’s cold.

A child’s innocence is lost,
Never born,
A father amused and proud,
Of his masterpiece form,
His work,
Bloody, bruised, broken,
A violated child.

“No more! No more!”
“Enough is enough!”
“It hurts!”
The child screams.
Blood ridden victim,
Now tragedy…
Eyes scarred, tears streaming,
Becoming a macabre.
Bound to a father’s love
“You’re a man, real men don’t cry”
Papa says with each lashing.
Angels want to die.

Beating… Beating it never stops…
“No more…, No more…” whispered in final breath
Tortured…broken…sodomized…what’s left?
As he closed his eyes, angels did cry,
Asking forgiveness in, his parent’s sin,

“This is family, isn’t that right?”

Dad’s bloodstained hands,
Mom’s fulfillment of appetite,

The child lying in pools of blood urine and feces too,
Drowsed in semen and mom’s immorality too,
Mommy and Daddy just want to say “I love you”.

Child abuse is one thing No one should stand for, especially if it is your child.
One in three girls and one in five boys are sexually abused by an adult at some time during childhood. (Most sexual abusers are someone in the family or someone the child knows, not the proverbial stranger with a lollipop.)More than 80 percent of abusers are a parent or someone close to a child. Child abuse is far more likely to occur in the child’s home than in a day care center. Child sexual abuse has been reported up to 903,000 times a year, but the number of unreported instances is far greater.