You come in drunk with fist raised, I’m just sitting there.
When I’m pummeled by you in your drunken rage.
Sometime I just feel so alone,
Like no one understands me, not even at home.
Instead of counting sheep, I cry myself to sleep.
Please god help me
And my brothers of three.

Help all the children out there being abused and hurt,
Being called names,kicked, punched and pushed to the dirt.
Sometimes I believe there only one way out,
I look at the blade, filled with doubt.
That I’m going to make it out of this house alive,
With my brothers by my side.

I will remain here for my teen years,
Be beaten and cry more tears.
And then leave this place,
And join my own race.
With halos and wings,
Not staying here eating “home made” chicken wings.
I need love and care,
Not KFC and sleazy underwear.
I need a father like a child should,
Not a guy to pay the rent usually up to no good.
Do you not care for me?
And my brothers of three.
I could die
And only then would you cry,
Please someone help me
Don’t leave this be.