The Punch Bag.
You broke me when I was a little boy used me, abused me, like an old toy I looked into the air wondering why me no one would notice, no one could see. Going to school with blackened eyes always looking like I won second prize friends would look, no one wanted to know classed as a boys life, trying to grow. Deep inside my soul, crying for help cowering in fear, from the next skelp when things go wrong, punch my face make me see stars, travel to space. One day I hope death comes my way not from the pain, but from this day take me from here, end my torment heaven looks nice, but hell is bent. To all you children, deadly scared life of turmoil, warmth is spared look to an adult, get them to hear live your life happily, not in fear.
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