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24 Whoever spares the rod hates their children, but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them.
Thank you so much Diggyon for all the powerful and poignant videos...I too am moved to tears.I really felt for Michael so much, even though I can only imagine some of his suffering, I could empathize with his pain. I also had a very strict upbringing and was terrified of my Father who I remember would line his belts up along the bed and make us choose one. My older brother probably had it worse and he would bully me sometimes to regain some power I suspect. He would lock me in the coal cellar when I was too little to reach the light switch and I would scream to be let me out for what seemed like an eternity. I was so scared of the dark. He would also give me Chinese burns, as well as other punishments. I forgive him now and my Dad but it has left it's emotional scars.I wrote this poem a long time ago. I would like to dedicate it to Michael and all the other lost children and walking wounded out there with much love...Somewhere SafeI wasn't thereWhen he stole my innocence from meI couldn't bear to look, to see,That the casualty-was me.I wasn't thereThrough the violence or the painI didn't dare to go insaneSo I learnt to hideSheltered from the rainSomewhere safe inside.I wasn't thereWhen he shut my soul awayI didn't care to cryIn that darkened dayStrangely their prison had somehow set me freeNot to care, for me.I wasn't thereWhen my mother cut my hairSo short, it made me bleed insideBut I knew where to hideSomewhere safe insideI wasn't thereWhen they took my baby from meI knew I had to set "my" baby freeFree, to mother me.I wasn't thereWhen I tried to take my lifeI never felt the bladeOf the friendly knifeI had no need to hideI was somewhere,Somewhere safe inside.