Child Abuse Last a Lifetime (poem) by John Michael Domino on AuthorsDen

Child Abuse Last a Lifetime
by John Michael Domino → (All Poetry by John Michael Domino)
Tuesday, October 15, 2019 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Life is all about the journey. We should want to make life better for our kids, no matter what obstacles or abuse life throws at us.

My dad used to beat me hard with the leather strap of doom. I would run as fast as I could to the place of refuge, my room My tiny hands were holding on to the springs underneath the bed Ouch, that strap would sting, but what hurt more was the words he said. Something like, “You will never graduate, you dummy, you’re a douche bag!” He called me many bad things I didn’t understand; I just felt like a useless rag Another standard, “You better change your ways of living or change your address.” I couldn’t think too clear after that; my heart was broken, my mind, a total mess. Still, while I was holding on to those springs under my bed for dear life I would think of what it would be like to be married, and have a wife. My mind thought deeply on how I would treat my own kids. I thought I would NEVER want to treat them the way my father did! Years passed and days flew by and my wish finally came true I had a wife and kids and I treated them best that I knew Oh, I would slip once in a while and say an unkind word or two But I NEVER hurt them like my dad hurt me, that I would never do. Now both of my kids have kids of their own and it sure is neat I get to spoil the grandkids all I want. What a blessing! What a treat! Still, old scares are still on my mind, leftover thoughts of my old dad Sometimes, when I feel stifled, stupid, dumb, deeply depressed and sad I meditate and look up to see that the sky’s is really the limit! Thanks to the Lord, our Father, a perfect Dad. Amen John Michael Domino, 10/14-19

Reviewed by John Herlihy

Reviewed on October 15, 2019

This poem full of a lot of insight and wisdom in the flow of its narrative. I remember the strap as well. Thank you for posting.

Reviewed by Richard Cederberg

I can relate John Michael. My father used to beat on me regularly growing up. I won't go into detail. He'd use a belt, a willow switch (when we lived in Chicago) and even his carpenters hands when he came home from work dark. I started lifting weights and running young because of him. At 18 I could bench press 300 pounds. I remember the day he was in one of his 'take it out on Richard' moods. That was the day I'd had enough. When he squared off at me, I exploded, and shoved him on his chest with both my hands. He smashed into the cabinets. It was my turn to glare then. You should have seen his face. I will never forget it. He never touched me after that. My Father is 95 years old this year, and to this day our relationship remains cold. I made peace with it many years ago. r

Reviewed by Rebecca McKeehan

I rarely felt the sting of physical abuse but I know intimately the damage that words and other actions can cause. Looking back I can't help but occasionally wish there had been more of the physical abuse. Perhaps then someone would have believed me and saved me so much more heartache in the long run.

Rebecca