A Campfire Tale...Pt I

I want to live life,
Without having to fear you,
Coming into my bedroom every night,
Just so you beat me black and blue.

I'm only twelve years old,
When I come home from school,
As soon as I close that front door,
You come up to me and say,
'I can't believe I gave birth to such a fool'.

You then drag me upstairs,
And sit me next to the cold radiator,
You say 'Don't move...
...I'll be back for you later! '.

Several hours pass,
I'm still sat in my cold, damp room,
Wondering when your going to,
Beat me over the head with that broom.

It's now half past nine,
You burst in and say,
'Do you know what time it is?
It's Mum's turn to play! '.

At that point, I start to shake,
And my soul wants to cry,
I start whispering,
'Why God? Why? '.

Out of the blue,
I'm suddenly hit over the head,
As I fall to floor,
I start seeing the colour red.

My sight now is blurry,
As my eyes start to close,
I whisper to myself,
'This must be the path that god chose'.

Now there lies the lifeless body,
Of a friend I knew,
Some people don't believe me when I tell them,
But most people believe it to be true.

Well that's what I've been told,
That's the end of this campfire tale,
Now hurry up and eat something,
'Cos your faces are starting to look pale.

By Jay Basey © 2006