A Place I Remember Well…

When I was upset as a kid,

As so often happens & did,

There was a place that was on the beach,

A rock jetty that extended into my sea,

A place only I, in my thoughts, could reach.

The ocean would swirl around my pier of rock,

This place was my fort, my ship,

Seaweed would grow close to the water,

The surfaces, flat, would make great spots to walk,
Just don't slip, or get wet you would, 

Out to the end of this my special place.

On the end were places to sit,

And ponder what to me were not reasons for dad to hit,

A place to cry, no matter how old I became,

A place to never feel shame.

A place to dream of a future life,

Where hitting and beatings were not the way,

A place to be when I ran away,

From a home life of constant strife.

Should a kid of 12 feel the way above?

Or should he be happy, especially around Christmas,

No, this poor kid that I feel so sad for now,

He had to live and learn how,

The world was a lousy place to be,

Especially for this kid of only 12, can you see?

Growing up is very hard, I know,

But to force someone to be older, before he grows,

That seems to me to be a law broken,

Most parents do their best,

There are no schools that teach child growth,

But why do some have to use pain & inflict,

Emotional and psychological damage to the one they supposedly love?

Anyway, my pier of rock, was my place to allow myself,

To hide from this pain,

It took me away and gave me less strain,

I follow a path that I have long since lost,

To enter a place where only ghosts,

Of my past live and thrive…

                                                       (ed)