My protector

Hi, my name is Zaina Kungwa and I know people will think I was abused but to be honest I don’t know what it feels like so one day I tried to picture what it would be like so I wrote a poem so here goes:

My protector 

Protector,provider those are the conotation to the word father. 

I always thought it was going to be a stranger an unkown mister but rather it was my father. He imparted fears and tears within me and i always wanted to depart. He was never my father. I had to be protected from him

He was never my Protector

I was taught from a young age never to trust because obviously i will be left in the dust. He would shower me with kisses and call me his princess, mind you not in the way a father should. He would beat me when I cried and be happy when I obeyed he was never my Protector 

I never felt warmth or love but i always craved it. He was strong alright but not to protect. I would quiver and cower away when he came. Nobody knew.

He was never my protector

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Published by

zaneye

Im an ordinary girl in a not to ordinary world using the world as my platform to discovery. Discovering me. This is my journey to me. 17 years old living in Durban South Africa

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