The whip and crack of well-used strap,
Snaps loud and sudden as a slap,
And lands on unprotected limb,
Shocking as a thunderclap.
On tender flesh are burning rays,
Of angry, livid-red whelps raised,
Screaming with the stinging pain,
You know will last for days and days.
How punishing the frenzied blows,
That injure more than outside shows.
The cuts that bleed are not all seen.
Inside the soul the worse wound grows.
Running from that insane hand,
Inside you find a place to stand,
And disappearing in your mind,
You run to Never-Never Land.
Note: I posted this poem some months back, but with the inclusion of the recital I'm hoping the community finds some additional value. Thanks for reading and perhaps listening.