Turn Back, Back the Pages
Turn back, back, the pages of time, the tattered pages,
Lay open the story of my life, all the sadness and sorrow;
I see the little girl that was me, alone, in the school yard,
So different, so shy, and withdrawn in a secret place within.
The pain in my eyes could shatter glass, it was hard to look at,
I spent most of the time behind my hair, my long raven hair;
Speaking is something I did rarely, but mother understood me,
No words were needed as she stroked my hair and kissed me.
I felt so safe in her arms and there are days now, I long for her,
Because often I still feel like that girl in the school yard, laughed at;
Bullied and teased, mean things said are like daggers to the soul,
Why God do people have to be so cruel, can you tell me God.
I have been through so much, deaths and deaths, for one so young,
My heart is fragile and easily broken, but I found a treasure, a gift;
The gift of writing, it is my salvation, for I can let go and write the pain,
With my bleeding pen, the words flow and flow, the paper dredged.
Dredged, soaking, wet with blood and tears, God, can you not stop them,
Have I not suffered enough, I visit my babies at their tomb, my husband;
My beloved parents, sister, gran all down a winding road, names engraved.
All I seek is tranquility, perhaps it is time to withdraw again.
_____________________________
January 16, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Turn back, back the pages
Copyright Protected, ID 16-745-360-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Best Sad Poem Ever
Sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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