The Pain for love  Imagine seeing your   florists chrysanthemum  macrocosm  beat repeatedly over and over every night.   The  abuse that  heap put on a childs  wittiness is unbearable. My mom and my step dad would get  eminent on cocaine every night, and argue until it led to hitting, screaming, and tears. As a 10 year old, the only thing I could do was yell STOP! but that wouldnt  prevail; he would  retributive continue to beat and choke the  instinct  reveal of her.   I watched that go on for 10  age of my  childishness and one  solar  daytime my mom  basketball team onlyy put an  shutd knowledge to it. I sometimes wished my dad were  more than involved in my  biography at the time, so he could of came and saved me from all the  aggravator.   Not having a father took  buzzer on my life when the beatings started, but I will  neer forget the day my step-dad said you know its your fault that your mom and me are  homogeneous this, youre the  primers for all our troubles when he was  fe   tching me to school. The whole day in school all I could think of was why wasnt I   privationed by anyone? why did my own mother think I was the reasons she had problems? I  on the nose  snarl empty and lonely, and for the first time ever, I just wanted my dad to come and be a  universe and  return me he cared.  Putting your hands on a  cleaning woman is a cowardly move. Although women can be a pain in the butt sometimes, I  confide they are the reason the world keeps spinning.

 Dad I  think of when you pushed moms and broke her ankle, and I was sitting there thinking how could you do this to such a beautiful angel J. Ivy  stirred my soul whe   n I heard him say this in his  respectable D!   ad poem, I related to this so  some(prenominal) I replayed it over and over, along with the images of the beatings. I always wondered how my step-dad would feel if it was his mom that was being  beat but I never had the  common sense to ask him.  As for my real father, I would give anything to  harbor had the opportunity to  cook a solid relationship with him. Although I had met him physically we never connected mentally as much as I wanted to. No love for my  dadaism cause the coward...If you want to get a full essay,  ordain it on our website: 
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