Santa please,
say to god,
help me.

On my own no food or warmth,
scrounging round the floor
all crumbs have gone
eaten them every one.

Mum and dad gone on a binge
all alone, no light,or anything.
Know when they return, if all is not happy,
all I got is a wet nappy.

They will shout and swear
that I can't bare
cos I know I will get beat.

They said I fell from my high chair,
never said they kicked it there,
how can I tell them
can hardley speak.

If this goes on I will barely see
too much punching
I'm not a bag
just a child,too young to answer back