Abuse

The second from last verses of The Family: A Proclamation to the World gives a warning: "WE WARN that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse and offspring or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets."

Abuse, of any kind and to any person, whether spouse or child is something that I do not tolerate at all. One can never fully understand the damage they bring upon others when they make poor choices and decide to violate another persons rights. I speak all this from experience in a lot of settings; at some point I had to watch a parent, a person that I love so much and so dearly be physically abused all because of the love she had for her children. And then I on the other hand, was molested sexually and that is one thing I have been and am still dealing with. Truth of the matter is, no one is spared. No one can go around saying that, "it will not happen to me," because you never know.

It is also important to note that women are also capable of abuse, as much as men are. Abuse can come in many different forms it may be verbal, emotional, physical or sexual. Abuse can take on many forms. Some types are more subtle than others and might never be seen or felt by anyone other than the person experiencing the abuse. The abuser uses a combination of tactics that work to control the victim. The abuse also usually increases in frequency and severity over time.

Below are two poems I wrote on abuse:

CHRIS!
My name is Chris
I am three
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see
I must be stupid
I must be bad;
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?
I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me
I cannot do a wrong
I cannot speak at all
Or else I am locked up
All day long
When I am awake, I'm all alone
The house is dark

My folks are not home
When my mommy comes home
I will try and be nice
So maybe I will just get one
Whipping tonight.......
I just heard a car,
My daddy is back
From Charlie's bar
I hear him curse
My name is called
I press myself
Against the wall
I try to hide
From his evil eyes
I am so afraid now
I have started to cry
He finds me weeping
Calls me ugly words
Says it's my fault
He suffers at work
he slaps and hits me
And yells at me more
I finally get free
And run to the door,
He's already locked it
And I start to brawl
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall
I fall to the florr
With my bones nearly broken


My daddy continues with
More bad words spoken..
"I'm sorry!"........I scream
But it's much too late now
His face has been twisted
Into an unimaginable shape
The hurt and the pain
Again and again!
Oh please let it end!
And finally he stops
And heads for the door,
While I lie there motionless
Sprawled on the floor......

My name is Chris
Today my daddy
Murdered me....

The Hand That Feeds Me Is The Hand That Bleeds Me
How can a hand that brings
Me satisfaction and comfort
Be the same hand that causes
Me pain, misery and suffering?

The hand that teaches me about love
Honesty, and kindness is the same hand
I have to watch being cruel and unjust
To another; instead of understanding, I
Only end up with more questions that I
Began with.....and that bleeds me.

The hand that feeds me is the
Hand that bleeds me;
For the same hand that holds
Me to quieten all my fears is
The same hand that is raised
In violence, causing me to cry.

The hand that feeds me is the hand
That bleeds me; for even though it
Puts food in my mouth, I have to
Watch it open the door to go and
Drink then come back and be
Violent, aggressive and abusive.


That hand that my mother trusts
To take care of me when she
Isn't around is the same hand
That molests me, bringing me
So much pain and fear
And causing me to hate.

How is it possible, that
The hand that feeds me,
Is the same hand that bleeds me?