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About carlou2

  • Birthday 09/06/1964

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    Homemaker, Foster parent, Adoptive Parent------needless to say my main interest is my children!<br />
  1. a poem i wrote telling my story

    I sit and think of the childhood I could of had If not for the hands of a "very sick man" ' A loving, caring mother her faith in God well known A gentel, warm loving father his love for his family well shown. Then one day it was all taken away When the "very sick man" married the eldest daughter. They thought it was grand when he asked for her hand For the evil never did he show Down the isle they walked, mother in tears Dad giving her hand to "the very sick man" They were to move in next door A loving nieghbor asked to move I was angry that day, as our nieghbor moved away As i really had grown to love her Little did I know, how very fast I would have to grow Because of this "very sick man" moving in. From that day on Mom and Dad consisdered him a son Never to see what was going on He did evertything for them fixed this and that Many nights with them he talked and sat Then very soon after, this "very sick man" preyed on their youngest daaughter I fthey'd only seen how very mean this "very sick man" really was I could see it in his eyes from the very start Why they could'nt I often wondered I soon went from the fun, loving daughter to one that was scared and so shy By my bed they would sit as I cried and complained, my head hurting so "Migrains" they said, I inherited from my father Little did they know, that they were brought on by the "very sick man" I considered a monster This went on for yrs. and yrs. Many nights in the Emergency Room we spent togeather Shots for the pain and pills for the nausea Them asking, What can be bothering ya? Then came High School, a teacher called mom she reported me asking to go to guidance or nurse But never wanting to go home Still they could not figure what was going on. Until one day "the very sick man" Invaded the privacy of thier grandaughter She knowing enough to tell Now many eyes were opened too well. Mom put things together She approached me that night she asked if this is what made me fearful and uptight When I said "yes" we both broke down and cried She held me that night like never before. Then said to me " i can't hear anymore". She gave me a hug and walked out the bedroom door. We didn't speak of it again Until many years later She said, she was sorry that she hadn't seen the suffering and pain that I went through by the hands of the "very sick man."