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NEWS | Oct. 17, 2014


By Staff Sgt. Eric Jackson 438th Supply Chain Operations Squadron

Editor's Note: This poem was published in observance of Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

I was so young seeing things that my eyes didn't yet understand
Till this day, how could someone consciously hit a woman
And call themselves a man
For reasons unknown to his enraged and ignorant mind
He would beat her, for any reason he could find
As her heart dropping cries, over and over again reaches my ears

"Please! Please stop!...the kids are here!"

So there I stood...watching...not knowing why I'm crying
I just knew, something's not right
It just wasn't clicking in my young little mind
I cry for her and run to her as hard and fast as I could
But as I looked down at my feet
I was standing in the same puddle of tears, same spot, same piece of wood
I could see the devil burning in his eyes, corrupting his soul
And I would fear for my life, more than hers, as my body ran cold

So I closed my eyes and ran to this place in my head
Where I thought only I could go
I asked GOD to please hold me
and never let go
Asked him to take me with him because this world is too cold
But cries that I never heard before brought me out of this world
The same man that was beating on my mom was holding me
Rubbing my head

"I'm sorry son...I'm so sorry"

As he wiped the blood from my head
My mother grabbed me and held me tight
Almost to a smother..........

This is just one of the stories, when my father beat my mother