Abused as a child, hurting as an adult

To talk of some things is instant death.
To speak of them in undertones-under our breath.
As long as we don't speak of them aloud,
They stay hidden behind a cloud.
There are so many secrets I wish to tell,
But to speak of them dooms me to hell.
They have stayed hidden for so long.
Was I right to hide them or was I wrong?

As the end comes so close-so near,
All of my secrets you will hear.
The pain, the suffering, the abuse,
Is what has brought me to this noose.

A bruise, a cut, a broken arm,
So many times has this body seen harm.
My head-the floor-boom-boom-boom,
My fate was sealed in this room.

A small frightened boy hidden away,
In the tiniest of rooms he will stay.
I have invited him out,
All he does is scream and shout.

A time so far back from now,
From child to man he did go.
Things he shouldn't see
A way of life-his not to be.

The pain and suffering he did share,
A friendly teaher he thought cared.
A friend he thought he could trust,
Violated with each evil thrust.

The pain some must endure,
Avoiding all around-there is no cure.
So we hide that child away,
Slipping further day by day.

Hidden away in a misty haze,
He'll forever say hidden in that maze.
And when he is invited out,
All he does is scream and shout.