One untrue,7-yr-old memory told to a therpist gets me reported to state as a child abuser. |
Stabbed in the Back Again Why have I tried to do good When those I love pick me apart With memories they think true Told to a stranger who puts the cart Before the horse Why do the men and women who talk Accept as fact one recollection about me In their ignorance do they knowingly mock Me with their lack of investigative technique They jump the gun "Stop right there, That is severe child abuse" What do they call it when they condemn The life I gave to my child, but I've been of no use What is wrong with this world when Some guy with letters trailing his name Can lay me to blame with only one Memory from a sick girl with five claimed Mental illnesses During those long drives to doctors for help My girl told me a thousand times that she Couldn't remember anything before the hell Of her disease's decent, all the times when we Had so much fun And where was her father, out working he says That's our standard lie to keep the family From the exploding truth within our heads With dread, I keep the peace, I bury My feelings for others' sake And no one asked me to leave open my back But I felt it was the only way to protect My girl's heart from the continual attack Of constant disappointment-if she only knew his jealousy checked Just barely under control I hope my girl can improve her world Her chance at life by nuturing a bond With her dad--I would be pleased if my girl could curl up to her dad and just be fond and relaxed, feeling warmth and protection But I don't know if her father Has that love to give I certainly never felt it, saw it The decades that I lived Beneath his stiffling hand The truth was not, has not and May never be told The damage I let him do to my soul Making the same bad decisions unfold And Damn I am stabbed in the back again |