A magical childhood should be a given, sadly for some this isn’t so. Written out of anger and frustration to bring awareness of child abuse, which of course takes many forms, not just the obvious.


Defiant eyes graze the Floor,

false smiles on a faded Wall

he will open that door

at the end of the hall.

Behind now smog soiled bricks

and fractured family frights,

old whisky demon tricks,

and guilt sob peppered nights.

Practised act of didn’t know

their little dears kept away,

sick mock concern all for show

but none brave enough to say

Hidden days by factory streams,

stolen by hate a need for love,

untouched the boyhood dreams

safe from he who towered above.

Never the Man he claimed,

what manner of man hates a boy,

his disease on a child blamed.

His trite reason to destroy.

Childhood of fear and shame,

like being forever ill

only one in that game,

of sitting on the window sill

Drizzle damp departing train,

there will be no returns

he’ll never see him again.

Yet inside his hatred burns

5 thoughts on “WHAT MANNER OF MAN

  1. Excellent write, Nigel. Awareness is certainly key. It’s heartbreaking to think how often this happens; that it happens at all. The frightening, unpredictable atmosphere and the lingering scars really comes through.

    Liked by 1 person

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