I was a still a child, when I met you,
Innocent, and fragile too.
I was sixteen; you were nineteen,
I never knew you’d be so mean.

I turned seventeen; you wanted to get married,
But my feelings were, somewhat varied.
But I agreed to marry you,
Never knowing the abuse, you’d put me through.

You told me what to wear,
I wasn’t allowed to cut my hair.
You got into drugs,
I needed real love.

You would push me to the floor,
I would warn, “I can’t take this anymore.”
But more, I did take,
But only for my children’s sake.

Your family had money, for you to use,
My children, I knew I would lose.
They are what I lived for,
I had nothing more.

You abused them, as you did me,
You never really loved, any of us three.
You chased me with a gun,
I could do nothing but run.

The kids for you were a just a pawn,
From which you drew your control from.
You have a violent family,
You all took my children from me.

There will be a price to pay,
Justice sometimes works that way.
When that day comes, I feel for you,
See, I know the pain you’ll go through.

When the truth comes out, and it will,
I hope the children will love you still.
I try to forgive and forget,
But memories of your abuse won’t leave me yet.

It is my humble plea,
That one day, I will be set free.
Until then, I’ll face each day,
Trying to keep the memories at bay.

The Lord sent me, my one true love,
I am someone he is proud of.
For I now see,
There’s a better life for me.

I am no longer abused,
My body, he doesn’t use.
I am now truly loved,
Not criticized, but thought highly of.

Your abuse was hard for me,
But he will always love, and care for me.
He says, that I am a lady through and through,
And to me, he will be forever true.

 ©2001 Janice Jarnagin