The Good Old Days

“Spare the rod, spoil the child”
I got my share of the rod.
Today’s values, pretty mild.
Then…it was “ordained by God”.

Today, they call it abuse.
Back then, dad ruled with a belt.
Punishment was the excuse,
To leave a corrective welt.

Mother weilded a paddle,
Or a slap across the face,
When a sibling would tattle,
To keep us in our place.

Teachers used a wooden ruler,
Or cracked together two heads.
Meted justice was crueler,
Colored by blacks, blues and reds.

Hope dies, when a hurt child cries.
Imprint of fear often stays
Reflected in abused eyes.
And those where the good old days!

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Synergy of Poetry and Verse. Author, Poet, Photographer

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