By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter
Photo is of me as a little, innocent child … I was visiting Hell … soon after that photo
I was living in the Hell I was visiting. Photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates…..
Trembling … laying in her bed
She had just woken to a scream
Her mother was being pulled from the bed
Where she had laid the night before
With her two young children
A little boy, a little girl
In the semi-darkness she saw a struggle
Heard a man’s rough voice, cursing
You damn bitch … you whore!
The little girl shook violently from fear
She almost threw up
Mama! Mama! she cried
Please don’t hurt my Mama!
The man slapped her back to where she’d been laying
On her bed … on the white sheets
She could see a stain getting bigger
On the pure white sheets
Her little hand touched her face where it hurt
She couldn’t breathe for her stopped up nose
Mama! Mama!
She could only scream this in her mind
The man beat her mother, let her drop
Onto the bed where she had slept with her children
Went … got his gun
The little girl could hear her Mama moaning
While she struggled to get back up
The little girl crawled to her mother
Her mother held onto her … sat up on the bed
The little boy crawled to her … he never made a sound
He was just a baby … a scared little baby
The man came back into the children’s bedroom with a gun
A loud sound happened … the man abruptly left
Mama! Mama, what was that?
The mother held her two children close to her breast
It’s going to be alright … sh-hhh, it’s going to be alright
The children fell back to sleep to their mother’s soft voice
She woke up to see her mother’s bruised face
The little girl didn’t know what to say
Too young to know that her mother had been beaten
Beaten by the man she knew as … father
The man she found out later … was her … step-father
A man who beat her mother constantly because of … jealousy
How could the little girl know all this
She hated, feared the big, handsome man she called daddy
She last saw him at age nine
Age nine … a big number in her life
She met the man who was her real father
He didn’t care for her … she didn’t know she didn’t care for him
He wouldn’t hug her … she cried for her mother
One day she was with her mother again
Several years later, back with this father once again
She found out why he didn’t like her
Because he offered her a piece of candy
She didn’t know better, reached for the little bag
He turned against her for something
Most any child would, could do
Never gave her a chance after that
To be a daughter … for him to be a father
Stepmother, half-sisters made her life Hell
Her father couldn’t look at her for fear
Someone would get angry at him
If he loved his oldest daughter, a little child
So, he began jumping out of doorways
If he saw her getting ready to go through
Stand, with an angry expression on his face
Nod his angry face for her to go on through
Constantly tore her down with …. words
Formed to look, sound like jokes
He, and his family treated her not badly
Treated her so good that it was … bad
They didn’t acknowledge her presence
She was just there until one day … she ran away
That was the last of … the father thing
In her mind when asked in later years about … father
She doesn’t talk about him … only sees an angry face in her mind
I don’t know my father … never knew him
Truthfully … she never knew him … but, did
How can one describe a father like that?
It’s best to say, I never knew my father
Let the subject be … go on
No one need to know about her life and … the father thing
Note by this Author: A true poem about my young life … and … the father thing. Photos/poem both owned by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter.
Colors of My Life 
Been there and survived… 😦
Love and hugs!
Prenin.
I thought about you, Prenin, when I was writing. Love, Gloria 🙂
So terrible.
Pingback: Hire Me a Crowd | GRANNY'S COLORFUL