Confinement

When I went to school on Monday, nobody questioned my tears.
“He’s just being silly,” they said. “He has to compose on his own.”
I tried my best to be happy, and I wiped them all away,
but I didn’t get how on earth I was meant to have fun and play.

When I went to school on Tuesday, we had to do PE.
“Take off your vest,” they said. “Hot and sweaty is bad for you.”
I tried my best to argue, that I had been told I must never
take off my vest, as they’d find out, and then I’d really suffer.

When I went to school on Wednesday, we had to talk about hitting.
“Hitting is okay,” I said. “But only for grown-ups, not children.”
They tried their best to argue, and then they shook their heads,
because I was just a child, probably watching films when I should be in bed.

When I went to school on Thursday, we played a family game.
“I’ll play the parent,” I said. “But don’t worry, it’s only pretend.”
They tried their best to tell me, that what I acted out was not okay,
oh yes, of course, it’s only for grown-ups to do to horrible boys, I was told the other day.

When I went to school on Friday, I asked to have a chat.
“I’m worried about my family,” I said. “And that I won’t come back.”
They shook their heads and told me, that it was a silly thing to say,
they’d see me on Monday, stop making a fuss, and go home at the end of the day.

When I stayed at home on Saturday, I shivered in my corner.
“I don’t like it,” I said. “Can we play a different game instead?”
He grinned at me and told me, that I didn’t have a choice,
that horrible boys like me should never use their voice.

When I stayed at home on Sunday, I curled up in a ball.
“I want to go to school,” I said. “It’s nice in there, and warm.”
She laughed at me and told me that I could only go back
if I learned to keep my mouth shut, and not earn another smack.

When I stayed at home on Monday, someone called my house.
“Is he ill?” they said. “How can we help?”
She laughed at them and told them not to stick their nose
in places it didn’t belong, and it started the dominoes.

When I stayed at home on Tuesday, nobody came to call.
“You’re all mine,” he said. “And nobody cares. You can say goodbye to school.”
I tried not to cry, but I couldn’t help but scream,
and with each blow flew away the dregs of my self esteem.

When I stayed at home on Wednesday, the whole world went dark.
“It’s all your fault,” he said. “Won’t you ever learn?”
I tried to keep my balance, but it just didn’t work,
and the more I tried to fight it, the more he went bezerk.
Then his hands and cans
of that smelly brown drink
flew around the room
I stood there, knowing silently
that this would be my doom.

When I stayed at home on Thursday, I had no words to say.
I had no breath in my tiny lungs and I had no time to try
to get to school and tell them all the reason why
I had no pencils and my shoes were scuffed
and sometimes, I behaved quite rough.
It was all I knew, and I tried to say
without giving it all away…
But all you could see was
that naughty boy who
never came prepared.
I tried my very best,
but all I ever saw in
return was a blank
look on their face.
“He’s only small, he’s just four,”
they’d always say.
“Children make things up every day.”
If you took the
time to ask me
about what
I endured, I
might have
felt secure
enough to
speak, tell
about that
thing I had
happening
to me, but
in reality,
the only
words
said
was
to
“learn”
to
do
it
all
on
my
o…

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