Camp Apohkochi
HomeAbout UsDonatePoem from an abused childTornado DamagePhoto Gallery
Photo Gallery 2Guestbook

​It's hard to understand what a child goes through.  This gives a glimps into their pain.
My name is Bobby
I am 8 years old
My daddy hates me
From him I was told.
His problems are my fault
As he always states
He claims my birth
Was the cause of his fate.
He says that I am stupid
And ugly as well
His painful words, I constantly dwell.
The words they hurt
But could never compare
To the pain of his belt
Swelling my flesh, oh so bare.
He strips me and beats me 
For what seems hours on end
As my skin fills with blood
And consciousness ends.
Unable to move, I lie on my bed 
Wondering why, I am such a horrible kid.
I call my mommy
To inform of my pain
My stepmom, she lies
From this, does she gain?
She watches my beatings 
And screams of pain
But sits their motionless
Again, for what gain?
 I have no friends
Neither a he or she
For who would like
A horrible kid like me.
I tell my teachers
And authorities around
But as they hear my stories
They just stare at the ground.
I must stop writing
As I hear my father scream
I pray there will be no beating
As I always dream.
When I grow older
And my story is told
Remember, I was just little Bobby
Only 8 years old.

Giving to help children like this, is not hard.  
If we were blessed to have 1000 people give 1 dollar, we would have 1000.00.  Can you imagine if they gave more, or more people gave?