As we explore possible causes that have contributed to the break down between the younger and elder generations. I want to take you on a journey many of us and people we know have experienced. As you read I want you to ask yourself, what are the possible outcomes of such experiences and what can we do as a village to change this story for future generations and keep them warm.

I was told as a child, it takes a village to raise us

As it takes more than one to raise a child, through the experiences of others that we trust

A grandma, an aunty, an uncle, a man is not supposed to stand alone

A single parent will easily break, with no one to hold them up so they cry and moan

Where has this unity gone, why are we separated, what caused a broken society?

Hear the blood crying on the streets, we need to approach this with sensitivity.

What actions must we take to form the bridge required to wedge the gap?

What’s steps must we take, as adults to get our young people back?

The burden is heavy, weary are the days, our cups runneth over

Let me tell you the tale of this young boy, born like me in November.

Growing up in the battle field, scared senseless in silence

Screams, a slap, blood in my food, my early memories are filed with violence

The bruises on my skin, the endless tears that held so many lies

Of the stories his hands told, the words he said that made me cry

I tried to be good, but everything I did seemed wrong

I only wanted to be loved, I only wanted to belong

I cleaned and did my chores but always scared, so I would jump as he spoke

I often wet myself, leaving the front room carpet soaked

A beast in the house, always angry, you often beat me

Daddy would hit us all, he created an angry mummy

One day he went away, I was able to breath a sigh of relief

Life was to get better, I am the man of the house now or so I believed

But instead came Alcohol, drugs and mummys new friend

A punch to the face, I would scream, as his body forced me to bend

He told me if I tell, mummy would die and I would go away

Scared into silence, I said nothing but my behavior went astray

As I grew up my fear changed into an uncontrolled furnace of anger

In school isolation was where I was placed, then a center a PRU as I was deemed a danger

You adults turned a blind eye, my hurt you chose not to see

I was just a trouble maker, causing everyone pain and misery

So Village, you chose to isolate me and turn me out into the cold

So now I return to burn your village down, I stand angry, violent but bold.

The paperback edition of my book “Kyron: Hello Madness Goodbye Joy” is live in the Amazon Store. It is available for you to purchase via this link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1728855977/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1540203435&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=hello+madness&dpPl=1&dpID=41k45GKLllL&ref=plSrch

3 thoughts on “Abuse”

  1. That happened to me, I used to be made to watch my mother take a kicking. Then I stepped in and took them instead. Eventually as I got older I became very angry and violent. I trained my brain to forget which eventually didnt work, I also used humour and sarcasm as a way of coping and they have now became a large part of my personality.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. This is my main concern. Eyes were trained to see signs of abuse in children. Yet we go through school being failed, as the system only focuses on the behaviour but fails to see the emotion behind the behaviour being displayed. Thus raring broken and unbalanced adults that become dysfuntional within society.


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