Call to Arms.

I was the loud one.
The kid you heard
all the way down the hall.
But now,
I have become silent.

I was the wild one
the kid you saw
running around on the playground.
But now,
I am skittish.

I was the one to be seen.
The kid you saw
singing or drawing.
But now,
I have become the unseen.

I craved affection
I craved attention
cause maybe then
someone would see my pain.
Bruises etched in flesh.

But no one did.
Everyone pushed me off,
under the rug.
Written off as a bad apple,
if you only knew.

My mothers love,
was cruel and harsh.
Pissed about her life,
another drunken rage,
and violent high.

She took her anger out
on my body.
Broken and beaten
I cried out for help
but no one cared.

A life was crushed.
A existence was born.
I did not live,
only existed.
But now I'm an adult.

Now I have found my voice.
Now I have a dream.
A reason to live.
I will stand up
for children like me.

When they cry out for help
I will stand tall.
I will walk through Hell,
to pick them up,
when no one else will.

I stand up,
where others fall.
But I can not do it alone.
I am but one voice,
and they are thousands.

So heed this call.
This call to arms.
The children who are
broken and beaten,
need a friend.

Will you be there,
like I will?
Or
will you turn a blind eye
like they did for me.