Daddy Why Do You Hurt Me So?

My mommy cries daddy

Can’t you see what you do to her and me?

You’re drinking and yelling and cursing so

Makes me run and hide my eyes

My ears are sore and so is my heart

From what you do night after night;

You spend all your money that we need for food

On beer and fun that you say you need

I want to run so far away

But where would I go I ask myself.

I pray to JESUS to help us so

I reach for HIS hand to not let me go

I wish my daddy would reach for us

And hold me and tell me he loves me now

Instead he wants his beer and fun and swearing.

If he could only take me to church I ask

And teach me about the one called JESUS.

But instead he would rather have his beer and friends.

I am tired of him yelling and falling down drunk,

I want a daddy that wants me to.

So daddy I cry and cry today

But you never hear my sad word that I SAY

You just don’t know how you hurt me so.

Other daddy’s take their kids to the park

And other daddy’s teach them how to play

Other daddy’s keep their kids safe from harm

But my daddy doesn’t care if I live or die.

Don’t you know I am going to grow up and hate you so?

Like you hate me?

When you don’t come to plays at school

When you just don’t care

I want to ask you,

Dear daddy why do you hurt me so?

BY: POET DEBORAH BROOKS LANGFORD

©Copyright 2011  by  POET DEBORAH BROOKS-LANGFORD

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8 thoughts on “Daddy Why Do You Hurt Me So?

  1. drtruthman says:

    Interesting poem with extreme feeling and emotion and an apparent personal touch.

  2. thank you so much… I worry about these children in these situations…

  3. Sandra Riddle Culbreth says:

    Very insightful & emotional writing.

  4. Thanks Deb for sharing this. Growing up an Abused Child, a Survivor of both Childhood and Adult Abuse, I totally relate to this Poem on many painful levels. Even though my foster father was not an alcoholic, he did other terrible, horrific things to me that I will not disclose on this forum; only know that for a child, be it a boy or girl, all they ever really want is their parents’ love, protection and approval. My foster mother as well wanted little as possible to do with me, turning a purposeful blind eye towards my foster father’s covert, vile acts. In my book, she’s just as guilty for not stopping it. For not defending me when I was only three years old, and newly adopted by them.

    You see, I was first abandoned by my biological mother who grieved so hard over the death of my German father from the Korean War, that she decided to give me up to an Orphanage, so I was adopted by the Joyner family, where abuse in every form imaginable began it’s thirty-four year reign until I met my current, Therapist husband, Howard E. Stumpf, Jr., who broke that chain of abuse forever.

    I always envied those who grew up in a loving embrace and supporting environment. So I beg of you for those who did, never, ever, take it for granted. Do you hear me? Rejoice in the fact that there was family to stand by your side; to care where you’ve been and where you’re going; to feel pride in your accomplishments; and to be there to comfort you when things didn’t go so right. Just knowing they are there to love and nurture you, to even have the tenacity to sacrifice their life for you, YOU ARE BLESSED.

    For not all of us grew up with a charmed life, Deb, as your very riveting Poem points out here, almost graphically. But I am one of those examples that you can survive Abuse, Neglect, Abandonment. And I take nothing for granted. If you grew up in a loving home, be thankful everyday of your sweet life and just remember those like me who had to learn love from nature, animals and even wildlife because they had no other role models to show them the difference. Writing since the age of 8 I also attribute to saving my life.

    Deb, I know your Poem will help others. I hope for those who never experienced such trauma, that you walk away thanking the good Lord that you were, and still are, blessed. There are many of us who never knew a warm, loving, genuine and unconditional embrace of a mother or the kindness and pride of a father. Deb’s poem here speaks of many children who grew up I a lonely vacuum. I would know.

    Thank you again Deb. May the healing begin for all of us.

  5. Susan.. I am one of the blessed ones.. I have had a great loving mom and dad. my mom was a saint.. but I have heard and seen so much.. I just don’t understand how any one can hurt a child. and I do not feel sorry for the adult at all. they can control them selves. As adults we are here to protect our small ones. not hurt them. I did have an uncle that abused us sexually while my father was gone off to war. He took advantage of us and our situation. thank you for your. response. You are a very special woman.. I am so proud to call you friend and sister in Christ.

  6. Gina says:

    This is really a good poem and very realistic & hits close to hone unfortunately.

  7. gladyswittreich@hotmail.com says:

    Sad very sad, but true!

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