-3/9/22 T.A.C.O.T.D./Not Broken

So, people of the world, you know who you are. And if you don't ... you'd better find out, and soon.

Welcome to another round of ramblings, gibberish, nonsense, and possibly a little bit of complete WTH(?). What to write, what to write?

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Ok, so I wrote this little poem a short while back and thought I'd share it with you. I call it T.A.C.O.T.D. I was sitting around one evening, thinking on a specific topic, and decided to put my grief down in poem form. Take a look at it and see if you can get my jist.

There's a camera on the dog, but nobody has suspected. It filmed their every fight but never interjected.

There's a camera on the dog, but no one seemed to care. He would sit afraid in silence, they never saw his stare.

There's a camera on the dog, that caught every hit. Followed by the roses but never would admit.

There's a camera on the dog, that shot every scene. Happy fragments tucked about but mostly they were mean.

There's a camera on the dog, whose heart is growing dark. It doesn't want to run around. It doesn't care to bark.

There's a camera on the dog, and they taught him how to be. Jealous and judgmental and bitter as could be.

There's a camera on the dog, and what has it become? Someone who doesn't notice the camera on his son.

Well, what think thee? I'm not asking you to grade the content based on the rhyme. I'm not asking you to decide whether it would make a great addition to a book of rhymes. I'm asking if you understood my meaning.

It's a simple poem about abuse. If it sank in then you probably realized that I used the noun of 'dog' in substitution for the noun of 'son.' Why? I will answer in a moment but first let me say this. In my opinion, abuse that isn't directed specifically towards the child but towards someone else within the family, a mother, a father, sibling, or other family member is still child abuse. If this young child is forced to grow up in an abusive, negative environment then he/she is experiencing something that doesn't need to be an ingredient in their upbringing, regardless of who in the family is targeted. The pain is still felt. The fear is real. The confusion is something that breaks down the child's stability, self confidence, and self worth. And if this is the blueprint you may have experienced as a child, I can only hope that you find the strength inside to want to break the cycle ... and do. Many who see this behavior, learn this behavior, and go on to teach this behavior to the next generation.

Little eyes watch and one day become big eyes that do not. Stop!

Now, to answer my question. When you are fighting with your whomever, the words are flying, and the arms are waving about ... do you notice your dog sitting there watching you? Probably not. Why would you? It's just a dog, right? And ... if you are that hell bent on hashing it out with your whomever ... you're not going to notice your child watching you either. Watching and learning. I substituted the noun of 'child' for noun of 'dog' because in the heat of the moment they both could be the innocent eyes and ears that absorb the abuse.

Stop

I have a childhood memory of visiting a friend of my parents and an argument developed between the friend and his wife. It was loud and scary. I recall some sort of glass vase or bowl or something being slammed against the wall into 1000 pieces. I can still imagine the fear of the moment. Pure fear as I watched grownups carrying on like this. A fear no child should ever have to know. I wrote my poem as a way to bring awareness to child abuse.

This is another little something I wrote (during the same sitting) on the same subject matter.

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Mom, I'm writing to you to let you know that I have not become all of the bad things you said I would be. You were wrong. It took some time but I finally realized that, no, I am not ugly. And no, I am not stupid. You spent so much time trying to break me down and now I finally understand why. Because you're broke. I'm sorry if Grandpa and Nanny broke you, I truly am, but that's no reason to turn right around and try to break me too. Why would you do that to me? Didn't you love me? I was just an innocent little girl. Not that you care or anything but I want you to know that I finally found someone who does love me. His name is Steve. For the first time in my life I get the chance to feel like I matter to someone and he loves me. And it's scary. Because I don't know how to accept his love. It's a daily struggle to let him in but I do because I know there is something good in it. Something better than anything you have ever done for me. I'm getting better and he is patient. Something you never were. And now I have the opportunity to break the cycle. The opportunity to teach they way I should have been taught. Tyler is his name and he is beautiful and happy and I refuse to his ever allow his mother to tear him down and make him feel like he's nothing just so I can feel better about myself being broken. Because guess what? I'm not broken. I may be a little chipped but I am definitely NOT broken. He needs me and I will be the mother he deserves. I don't know if you will ever be able to fix yourself, and believe me I truly hope you do, but if you can't/won't then you will never be a part of Tyler's life. Pleas, fix yourself, mom. If I could do it ... so can you.

I wrote this to simulate a letter from a daughter to her mother. She declares three things to her.

#1 She corrects the notion that she (daughter) is any of the things her mother insisted she was.

#2 She promises her that she will break the cycle and raise her child in love.

And #3 (My favorite) She not only encourages change within her mother but shows her confidence in the ability to do so.

This is just a fictional story but I'm quite sure many children have lived it. Now, go back to the story and read just the green letters.

Child Abuse Hotline 1-800-482-5964. This is an Arkansas number. A simple google search will find a number in your state.

Today's topic was child abuse. I hope this meant something to you, anything. It's a sad thing to imagine. A sad thing to live. If this is you ... stop the cycle. If you notice it ... help. Words to chew on, people.

I will talk with you again in a week. Until then, continue to feed your brain. You owe it to yourself.

Angelo

Check out my newly published book, 'Caesar's Move' on Amazon.

Website/ Angelobain.com

Email/ Angelobain@yahoo.com

I welcome all comments.