by Rebecca J. Burns



My name is Bobby;
Although you never hear me speak,
I’ve lots to say.
Even though you never see me smile,
Deep inside I’m still your child.
Although you don’t know my name,
I breathe in and out just the same.
This game you play,
I don’t know the rules,
I go to school, and I try to be,
The child you dream.

One foot forward and two steps back,
you did it wrong now take that slap.
Get off the floor you silly fool;
Go cry your tears into Winnie the Pooh.

You have no choice, you are my child, No one cares if you live or die. Don’t say a word, Don’t tell a soul. You must be so good, They’ll think you’re made of gold.

Did you play this with your dad? You were his only son. Why are you so mad? Why do you make me run? I lie beneath my bed; the pillow no longer drowns the dread. What made you so mad? You only hit me once yet I feel so sad. I’m in my room upon my knees, hoping that you will see, the hurting child inside of me. I’m praying that lightening will strike; will I die before the morning light?

I don’t want to play this game, I don’t know the rules, I don’t want to play your stupid game no more. Take away the board, smash it on the floor, Daddy won’t you let me know the way, to play this game you play, I’ll learn the rules someday,
I promise if you let me run away…

(Whispered)
I won’t say a word,
I won’t tell a soul,
I will be so good;
you’ll think I’m made of gold.

(Whispered lower) …
I won’t say a word …
I won’t tell a soul …
I will be so good,
You’ll think I’m made of gold …


by Rebecca J. Burns
www.rebeccaburns.com
www.thelaststraw.wordpress.com