If I should ever sit and write my life's story
And tell of everything that was nice or gory
I think that it would be a World Best Seller
Of how my childhood held so much terror
One could never write about all those times
But I will try to set down just a few lines

At a very early age I knew what it was like
To be constantly belted and to live in fright
It is true when I say I never had new toys
But I did have a rag doll, she gave me some joy
School was a nightmare, I hated every day
Except for the relief when I went out to play

Maths was my torture, my teacher saw to that
I dreaded every lesson, I was as nervous as a cat
She knew I was unhappy with my life at home
And how the girls laughed at my second hand clothes
She would fire questions at me like a bullet from a gun
In my nervous condition I could only sit there dumb

Many times she made me stand in the corner of the room
Misery and shame engulfed me as I stood there in my gloom
My father called me many names but never my own
That is why I need so much love now I am full grown
So many times he'd lock me out if I played in the street
I never had warm stockings or boots upon my feet

The streets soon got deserted no more children playing around
I would hide in our porch squatting on the cold ground
The damp seeped right through me I was unhappy and scared
Finally when the door opened I'd run shivering upstairs
There was no love or happiness, not in our house
Just a cruel cold father and a mother who was a mouse