12 am, she sleeps,
the one I call my mom.
And then from 1 to 4,
I am rapidly torn.

My mother has no clue,
God bless her lack of ears.
I scream at the top of my voice,
While he savors my tears.

One day came his friend,
we prepared a gala dine.
And mother and I, later,
were desserts for those swines.

I still miss my dad,
I wonder, if he sees from above.
I hate his parents more,
for abandoning my mom.

Chocolates, toys and more,
they say that children like.
I wonder why it pains? When,
the same on me, he tries.

Today, at noon, mom slept.
I saw a knife kept near,
First her throat then mine,
I sliced with joy not fear.

Dear Diary,
When I am alone,
you’re the only one I talk
to, about my stepfather.

I hope you’ll do me justice.