Content Warning: Please be aware that some of the stories on these pages contain details and descriptions of abuse which you might find disturbing or upsetting.
A Plea to the Learned
Conception joy nine months of wait
Pushing out through a narrow gate
I cry, then faint, losing so much blood
I welcome my baby into our twosome hood
Puddle jumping, riding bikes
Climbing trees and taking hikes
We paint and draw, play dress up games
Puzzles, dancing, making up names
Schoolwork, friends, parties galore
National Trust, sleepovers, and so much more
We laughed and cried and played and danced
We sang and loved our lives enhanced
The sweetest cuddles, the softest touch
I could never love a child so much
Then darkness came from a TV screen
A look a word to break our dream
Preying eyes and sticky hands
Making mini beasts of the cutest lambs
Smoking pot and drinking came
Running from home became a game
Promises of better from ugly faces
Taking my child to disgusting places
My lamb to slaughter quickly went
Abusive words and rage unspent
Kicking screaming smashing things
Chaos, disorder this grooming brings
Crying siblings, mama broken
Calls for help and gets no token
So in they come with clipboards bent
Judging parents no sympathy felt
Reports were wrote, truth and justice gone
Making up stories, from breast, the child was torn
With disbelief, my heart it bled
All help lost, instead, with child they fled
Fighting in court, I hoped they’d see
That grooming and blame didn’t come from me
Business broken , money gone
Moving house, without her, no home
The judge he rules, a portly chap
His stern, drinking face delivered the slap
Not coming home but in another’s hands
A temporary mother has my firstborn lamb
To a system shattered by lack of cash
I implore you to stop and think of us
Mamas and Papas are not always to blame
Victims of another’s grooming game
They take our kids, fresh meat they say
Vulnerable and hurting, they make them play
They know the words they use will bring
“Fresh lambs to the slaughter” these bastards sing
So listen gents and ladies too
Those who sit on seats and make the rules
Regard our stories, our sobs and pleas
Stop the slaughter save our lambs
Save future kids from grooming hands
You have the power you have the pen
Stop this pain repeating again and again and again
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