In this dark and dreary world, the urchins forced to toil
Their body bared and tarnished, gain little sleep and boil
Tiny hands and feets famished, no love they had meet
Like young lambs for slaughter, were they forced to cheat
Sold away by father, with no heart but only greed
How my mind cries, watching this heinous deed
And sighs, its a discriminating fate unfair.
© Nadiya (22 Jan '15)
*Won 4th place on 4 Feb 2015 in the contest 'Interlocking Rhyme' by Isiah Zerbst
Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015
Made is she of the finest porcelain, that daddy's
Money can buy, with soft raven tresses, and blue
Hued shining eyes.
My pretty Polly baby doll, has a hand painted on
Smile, and long curly eye lashes, that bat and blink,
When one is not watching her, my cleverest of play
Mates is she.
You must understand one thing perfectly clear, dear
Friend, my pretty Polly is no ordinary standard toy,
Yes, I fully know that children have a vivid imagination,
But sir or madam, I've seen it for myself, and felt her
At first it was fun, playing these haunting games,
A trickster’s paradise, she'd laugh and giggle, with
Fiendish delight’s pleasure.
But I'd always get blamed for the mischief, she'd get
Us into, so I decided that I wouldn't play with her anymore.
So I tucked my pretty Polly in a trunk, in the upstairs attic,
And locked it up good, and tight.
Later on that very same night, when I took off my slippers,
And said my prayers, I snuggled beneath my comforting covers,
Then beside me I realized in sheer terror, there she did lie,
Smiling back at me, with those great big blue eyes.
In the quiet and stillness of my very own bedroom,
She did so whisper in a gentle sadistic voice, cuddling ever
Closer to my tender year’s youthful ear, don't ever do
Something likes that ever again.
This is when I lost my childhood innocence, it was then
That I realized the true matrix of our relationship, that I
Was Polly's pretty playmate, not the other way around?
Time passed by slowly after this earth shattering event,
Deadly tea parties, hurtful games of hide and go seek,
Until one day she turned her delicate porcelain face
Away from me, announcing in a curt and mischievous voice,
I'm rather quite bored with you.
The next morning when I awoke she, my pretty Polly
Baby doll had gone, never to be seen again.
When questioned by my Papas, about her whereabouts,
I gave him the same chilling smile, which this haunted
Doll my pretty Polly, had given me time and time again,
Well I'm not sure, she's lost my dearest father.
Oh that's a shame my little child, would you like
Another one to take her place, no I replied, a hug
Will do instead, just fine!!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
Southern love, Southern hate
they are the opposite of each other
I have memories of both in the State I love dearly.
Going back to a old plantation home in the South ,
as a child I played in the many Pecan trees , collecting baskets upon baskets of fresh pecans .
the smell of fresh pies , of pecan and rhubarb , oh my Mom took the prize .
One afternoon , School was out , it was in summer , reminisce of fresh lemonade
My Mother called my name 'child come in here now " in the middle of the day '
she many times called and I would hide in this paradise full of honeysuckle and pecans .
This time the tone was one of fear , and alert , "come inside Now"
I ran to the top of the old plantation stairs to my Mother .
I saw in the distance what seemed to be a parade in the day .
This time the parade was of people in "white sheets ' going door to door,
just like salesman they would knock , they would greet .
my Mother said " We have no time for this here " leave now , and leave fast. yours is only teachings of Discriminate .
she sent them quickly away , giving back the paper , the invite
These people dressed in funny white sheets .
only later I discovered what this was about
Your Parents do their very best , to keep any Evil out .
These people are not just from the South , they are all over the World
Leaving me that day with no doubt . Make the choice you have , we all do
Remember Gods Children are innocent , and many a color , they could be Blue ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
The innocence is transfusing
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
In the attic, above wooden floor,
through the hallway of psychotic, locks upon my door,
near the broken window and glass of the sore,
hiding in the shadows,
bloodstains on the wall.
house at the end of the street,
where lights are low,
where silent never sleep.
Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Ta pime yaah ta pime yaah bam
Rata tata rata tata bam
Ta pime yaah ta pimi yaah bam
Tears drip from the face of the weeping drum.
The drum the drum the drum
Screaming and shouting
Crackling and rackling
Dispelling a mighty woeful sound.
Ica mama ica mama rata tata rata tata bam.
Thousand of them pouring in the street
Following the sorrowful and painful drum beat
amba picka amba picka amaba pika bam
Girt up your waist and run
Ban your belly and come
Weeping and wailing flooding the street
Mournful singers and dancers entertaining in grief
While traditional women light thousand of candles
To feed the souls and expel the dark forces of the devil.
Ah namba ramba tata ramba tata bam
Emotions run high, increasing tension in the sky
Filling hearts with burden too heavy to bear
Causing them to rent their garment in despair.
lingo bam bam lingo bam
bam lingo bam bam lingo bam
The sound grew louder and louder
Waking everyone out of their agonizing slumber
And forcing them to congregate in village, cities and towns.
They beat the drums all night, and marched around the city wall
Blowing horns, chanting despondent words that it might fall.
Beat the drum brother man
Round up the youths to join the band
Sound the drum a little louder
March into the devils territory
And trample Lucifer under your feet.
Beat the drum brother man
Beat the drum and sing a victory song
Ta pime yaah ta pime yaah bam
Rata tata rata tata bam
Beat the drums brother man
Beat the drum for Mr. Steve and drag him into the circle
Ica mama ica, mama rata tata rata tata bam.
Expel the tormenting spirit of that relentless destructive devil.
Rata tata rata tata bam.
©2014 Christine Phillips
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2014
to take the life of an innocent one
taken away my childhood
but not thrown into adulthood
you've given me a life of pain
certainly will I never
again be the same
but, I've found my freedom
here within the walls
of Gods kingdom
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
Larry was the oldest, seemed every day he grew
Bubbling with mischief, like a cackling witches brew
At the time just 10 or so, but that’s a long way back
Humorously independent, the joker of his pack.
And then came Jan, smiling face of missing teeth
Radiating freckles, a tomboy underneath
Followed by little Davey, and his demon dog named Stiff
Really good at misbehaving, or some real mischief.
There are potent spells a witch can cast, riding on her broom
Sorcerers tricks from ages past, weaving trickery on her loom
To ferment a brew with some illusion, and a spell or two
With spirit salts and then confusion, to make her schemes come true
Johnny was the toddler, did pretty much as told
Shook his rattle, sucked his thumb, let his world unfold
So that’s team, the whole groundcrew, dynamic young and bold
With dreams and schemes of their machines, something to behold
With sticks and gum and elastic bands, a runway made of tiles,
Perched upon the old shed roof, it could be seen for miles
Gleaming in the evening sun , the plane was quite a feat
A firecracker in an upturned pail, as an ejector seat
A barnyard roof may not seem high, 20 feet I’d guess,
The main thing was to make dad proud, something to impress
But to the boys quite high enough, for their first flight test
To act like men by doing good, and sticking to their quest.
The plane was much too hard to move, even with all three trying
They ignored the pilots grumblings, leaving Johnny close to crying
What it really needed was a magic wand, the ones that sorcerers use,
One with proper magic powers, that could also light the fuse.
One more shove is all we’ll need, lets give it one more try
I’m guessing theres trick to this, to making this thingfly.
Then Abracadabra he had the thought, that used a pole and levers.
Come on now, You’ll all be proud, we’ll show them non-believers
See it’s already at the edge, nothing can stop us now.
But as the plane started to tilt, sweat on the pilot’s brow
Litltle Johnny started to sob, and could not hold back his tears,
And within the nearby kitchen, the cry fell on someone’s ears,
What wicked spells a witch can cast, as she rides apon her broom
Using evil tricks from ages past, and illusions weaved by loom
But that’s no match for a prairie mother, running with a scream
With terror in her eyes, to end an evil scheme.
Copyright © Andrew Martin | Year Posted 2015
I try so hard to keep my eyes open.
Try so hard not to see the past,
What you did to me,
Turning back into the helpless child looking for mommy or daddy.
You tell me I was wrong, you must punish me, I cry,
It hurts, what did I do?
You don't know how to answer, only what to do.
Now I have nightmares and in the darkness I see the damage you have done,
Do you know how long it took to fix my mind from all the damage you brought on?
Did you have kids of your own? Did you touch them too?
Have you died yet, are you burning in the hell you put me through?
If only there was a way for me to get to you
Cut those evil hand off and play guys who.
Now I suffer from images of things I can't change
And grow from the dreams of the man I'd love to hang.
Copyright © Janet Runyan | Year Posted 2015
You spoke of Love in the kingdom to come
Where the works of hatred would be undone
you bid your disciples to follow whats true
to demonstrate its power in the actions they do
But I have seen injustice
In the congregations of God
they have castigated children
with verbal tirades they did flog
committed vicious slander
and the innocent threw away
refused to hear their lack of justice
and those who tell the truth they slay
But these actions are not hidden
from our King God has given throne
those of us who’ve seen it
our thoughts to him have shown
His retribution will not linger
with his army he arrives
expose he will oppressors
those who cover deceit with lies
They profess to be disciples
of the Christ and Father Jah
but the errors of injustice
have trespassed the Love that’s law
Into the sanctuary
I have sent this word
that like prayers of incense
their cries and tears be heard
At the house of God there’s punishment
until true mercy we can learn
willing to investigate the truth
and its advocates not spurn
You have practiced Law and Judgment
the child of God you did not see
you interpreted the scriptures
and pronounced his children unworthy
I have trouble understanding
those who lift your eulogy
so easily destroy their kin
blame not themselves as ungodly
Its always someone else’s fault
not the things you did or say
you couldn’t possibly be the reason
that from the “truth” they walked away
When you stand before the throne of God
will they judge your actions clean
all the thoughts that you committed
will prove you kind or mean
I can only say to you
I saw your justice taken away
my own afflictions and slander
paralyzed my voice that day
Even now to late in time
their judgments I do fear
they’ve spent their time convincing me
my perception is not clear
But I have spent my time
considering the instructions in your word
their placement in my heart and mind
and my pen has proved I’ve heard
to those youths I’m still connected
you’ve remained in mind and heart
I’ve considered what you experienced
and I know it’s origins start
Not all of us who worship truth
will condemn your walk away
those who expose their heartlessness
before the throne will pay
I only hope you remember
those of us who cherished you
If I could manipulate nature
none these things would you go through
I want you to remember
that’s whats broken and with flaw
have difficulty executing
the perfection of cosmic law
I hope to see you in the future
when you’ve considered my digress
what you’ve experienced in life
is very difficult to digest
The things that connect us
are more than human skin
together we are the children
of the parents who gave us sin
This is my apology
for you whom I could not defend
I was suffering my own afflictions
which prevented my love to mend
I have failed far to many
and on others can lay no blame
unlike the power that controls the cosmos
my limitations physics name
My complaints here I have spoken
but the threads of them are true
they are laid before the throne of justice
and our God and Christ will see them through
Choose to invest in excellence
but these are traits that you must learn
to humans they come not natural
your inclinations they will confirm
From your introduction I have loved you
and to my thoughts have given voice
but your own road you must travel
and free will is yours of choice
Only one thing can fill whats hollow
a majestic gift from Christ and God
that we “learn” to love each other
correct the inherited things and flawed
Self justification (self rightousness) is a peculiar
trait among mankind ….and is significantly
emboldened when applying law and tradition
and distinctly visible among those who “practice”
religion , instead of “following the truth” like a
detective …….outside appearances can be so
deceiving, whats hidden and out of visions
range the guilty are not just catholic and protestant
those who abuse the truth have always sat
right among Gods own chosen people ….
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2014
What can you remember from childhood?
The memory of friends still haunt.
Being lonely and an outcast, I created my own.
One in particular, not really a friend;
I found out too late.
First there were games and fun,
Secrets that no one would ever know.
Then those games turned into danger and unimaginable terror.
I told myself that he was mine and of me,
So there was no way he could hurt; I was wrong.
I made my escape, but others were not so lucky.
I found happiness and love again;
Expecting children of my own.
They will never know my pain,
Nor feel the misery for themselves.
He watches and waits.
Copyright © Amy Ohare | Year Posted 2015
It's the third verse,
I got the urge to purge
All the curt words I've splurged,
I've submerged in sin,
I'll go to church repent,
Then go curse again,
Lets reverse this trend
We nurse tolerance,
When it might offend,
If I white wash my fence,
So try to not get tense,
When I do not defend,
Those who chose to be dense
And not use their two cents,
To show kids the reverence,
For the pledge of allegiance.
Copyright © Mike Conway | Year Posted 2013
I saw evil last night,
evil in the form of a sweet fleshed beauty,
evil in the form of sparkling eyes,
with the fork of serpent’s tongue.
I saw evil, perhaps, not in its entirety;
as with goodness, evil is an abundant
and all consuming well.
So young, so stained by herself and others,
this child daily sought the flame,
stealing from anyone, anything; she could.
From the fragile, translucent, moth
to kitten’s lick, she enticed beyond bounds.
Her beauty narcotic, evil bathed in jasmine,
giving kisses to gain access to her drug of choice.
Failure’s false excuses acts dispensing sexual pleasures;
luring with ribald sensation with filthy lucre.
Flames leapt from the eyes of the sweetest face,
recalling the pill vials abundance and place;
recalling the ease of reach.
Her thrusting tongue-tip, licked and leapt.
at the drooled corners of her strawberry-pink lips.
The lips she would let his aged, sick, body, kiss,
all for the high, his legal drugs would bring.
She stay. She’d give him everything—
He didn't pay in money, surely, there was no crime?
So near death, he’d pray.
“Lord God please heal me.” He’d say.
She’d smile and the horned corners of her lips would rise.
He’d seek life’s affirmation between her thighs.
She’d stay—until he died.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
The big, bad wolf wears a suit of gray with a snide smile.
Standing upright, he believes himself to be debonaire
as he takes his comb from his breast pocket and slicks back his hair.
Why does he flash his pearly white fangs
and file his claws 'til they're razor sharp?
He smells the fear of docile creatures; he taunts the weak,
stalking his prey while vultures circle overhead in waiting.
The face of evil in a fairy tale with girls wearing red cloaks
and shepherd boys watching their flocks on hillsides.
Flames like daggers from his yellow eyes pierce the pastoral images.
Clear skies become dark by his phantom-like shadows.
He walks tall in black boots of Italian leather
towering higher than treetops in their eyes
beyond the echoes of his menacing laughter.
The woodland creatures cower in their hiding places,
yet hope for a glimpse of the beautiful princess
in her dazzling horse-drawn carriage crossing the forest.
Through the darkness, the ancient land shines like an emerald
with fragrant flowers in bloom; the petals strewn her path
in a storybook from a child's shelf between rainbow bookends.
Surely, heavenly showers shall rain down on the land
and good shall overcome evil with rainbows coloring the pages
as an enchanted princess in a shimmering gown rights all wrongs,
though her strength is not immediately evident.
Melodious birds fly on the outskirts of the tale,
orbiting the forest without fear, searching for the light.
The princess, oblivious to danger, dances amongst the trees
calling the shy creatures from their hiding places.
She ignores the wolf's hideous laughter in a dream-state.
Looking for her prince, she kisses a frog to no avail
then spies three little pigs with curly tails and fearful eyes.
They know the wolf too well. His gray suit coats the dreams
of their happily ever afters. Our heroine, the princess, wipes their tears,
rolls up her sleeves, and builds a brick fortress.
She bravely changes history to her story not giving in to fear.
Fear only fuels her adrenalin rush 'til the job is done.
The wolf huffs and puffs, bites and claws unable to infiltrate.
He eventually sulks off on all fours with his tail between his legs
and is never heard from again. At least, not in this storyland.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for Fairy Tails contest (Debbie Guzzi)
*the wolf is personified
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
“The princess shall prick her hand on a spindle and die.”
Out of sheer jealously
- No other reason-
An evil fairy placed such a wicked spell
Upon a baby girl
Such an act of hatred
Towards such a person who had done nothing wrong
And ever since she was condemned to a life
She had neither wanted nor asked for
Awaiting a prince no one could be sure would come
To give her true love’s kiss
And make leave the spell undone.
“Queen, you are full fair, it is true, but Snow White is fairer than you.”
Upon the Queens jealous orders
A huntsman is ordered to kill
A sweet innocent girl
Once again she had done no harm
Nothing to cause the new queen pain
“You are to return with her heart.”
The huntsman, unable to do so,
Tried to trick the queen
But to no avail
Soon the queen devised a plan
So evil and cunning
She handed her a poisonous apple
And watched as she fell
But again true love kiss
Brought her out of death’s painful grip.
Moral of the story?
Bad people will always
Do bad things
To good people
Who don’t deserve it
But your true love
Is always there
The pain away
Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2012
I went to bed to lay my head,
Too scared to close my eyes.
For every night it was the same,
Every night my demon came.
A huge green elf from an old matchbox,
He picks up the box and chases me.
I shrink with fright, I start to shiver,
When I see him coming I start to quiver.
He chases me up, then down the hill,
He chases after me far and wide,
Just as he closes for the kill,
I wake, I'd wet myself.
© Dave Timperley 2012.
Copyright © Dave Timperley | Year Posted 2013
I went for a walk in Hamburger Land
I saw hamburger children all hand in hand.
They swallowed the image, they did not create.
With hungry mouths, they could not relate.
Vision machine had shown them the way.
Telling them lies of what they should say.
Hamburger children just look at them play.
Eyes all aglow with what they don't need.
Tongues are on fire, with wishes of greed.
Useless desire, grows like a weed.
Plotting minds, on children do feed.
Plowing the surface and planting the seed.
Hamburger children are growing too fast.
Unknown moments are all in the past.
Wander a minute away from the tube.
Pull back a curtain and peer from your cube.
Ten stories below, you're well up above.
Safe, out of reach, from neighborly love.
These hamburger children, are not all content,
Some fear the future, they might grow to resent...
Copyright © Thomas Norman | Year Posted 2015
We all suffer at the hands of another
wish we could see it's not our fault
but our mother's.
Praying to the wall
it'll make you feel better
I won't stand for that bullshit
won't even pray for a brother.
For there's no such thing as a God
but sorrow and hate
We,us humans, **** one another
our fears and losses.
we're our own devils in disguise
wearing upside down crosses.
Copyright © Jolly Figs | Year Posted 2013
One December Night
(Continuation to the End)
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.
But month after month he was given the boot. It didn't matter whether he showed magic or
gave them some loot. Many children were selfish. Not one gave a hoot.
Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked
right on in. In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the
frog for his good. It was a happy sight for the frog there that night. Yes, they showed him
great kindness and genuine love, the
spirit of Christmas shown down from above. The purest of love without expectations turned
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs. “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave
gifts on Christmas night. Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight. Leave me
some cookies. I shall eat no more bugs! He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.
The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa
last spring. And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on
the log. She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune. She wanted his voice instead of
her own. Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy. She could not carry a tune for
one single song. She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from
the children left her no choice. The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice.
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay
out. So they went to the witch and gave her a voice. And taught her that goodness over bad
is a choice. So together they played with the now happy witch. Who gave up her evil and to
goodness did switch. The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give
heaven a whirl. For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them. So,
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!” (And let God be the judge…)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
Every child has that thing that haunts them,
It is found under the bed or in the darkest part of their closet,
It is the malevolent and vindictive Boogeyman.
Its presence is felt throughout the night,
The children don’t know how to fight it,
It drives them insane and to the very brink of manic fright.
They reach for the lights and scream for their parents,
The Boogeyman comes closer making his way to them,
Closer, and closer becoming less transparent.
The children don’t know that this frightening specter,
Is the manifestation of their deepest, darkest fears,
They see him as their Soul Collector.
The children will soon become wiser,
That the malevolent and wicked Boogeyman,
Is a child’s worst nightmare.
Copyright © Michael Walker | Year Posted 2015
What Did I Do?
I trusted you both, but not anymore
you left me behind that big black chained door
This place is so different, I don’t understand
why do they all stare, one came over to hold my hand
What did I do? What did I do?
I promise to listen, be good, say thank you!
My first day was scary. Lot’s to learn, chores to do
you see I’m so little, please help me get through
Why do they whisper, I don’t understand
that language they’re speaking, I will learn as quick as I can
What did I do? What did I do?
I’ll ask again
I miss you Mommy, who is this man?
I promise to fight him
run far if I can
the problem is, I don’t even know where I am.
My secret friend listens
who I made up in my head
she’s imaginary, helps me stop crying
says keep still, play dead.
What did I do? What did I do?
I’ll ask once again.
You keep hurting me over and over again.
The words that they forced me to learn was only don’t tell
please don’t hurt my sister, she was left here as well
two years have passed, I’ve learned how to speak.
That language so foreign, just listen, you hear me?
I mustered the courage to find a way out
I just turned 7, I’ll surely find help
a letter was written, secretly sent out
please come and get me, help help help!
My uncle has found me so skinny and frail
I clinge to him tightly, those men should go to jail
the story I told I knew who was the one
convinced my mommy, made her run
she too was abused, I helped her get out
today we’re much happier, that is no doubt
I found my prince, a hero for sure
who showed me true love
makes me feel oh so pure
I had my own children
kept them secure
I broke the cycle
of that I am sure
Copyright © Sandra Lopez | Year Posted 2015
"Every time, countless stares, they try to peer into my mind.
Every single time, I am so tense, I cannot relax and unwind.
The painful judgment unleashed down upon my own flesh and blood,
Who is right, who is wrong, who is guilty and who is strong. Who is fit to rise from that which dirties our hands and body, the mud.
I want to get away from you, but I fear you not.
I want to watch you suffer as I rise and you rot.
Do not mistaken me, I truly am just a simple, regular girl with nothing to live for.
But that means that I can go to such lengths to grab your heart and crush your core.
Accusing me, I was just fine with that,
But now bringing down my entire family? You scummy, shameful rats!
Throughout my childhood, all I wondered was "why?"
Now, I don't care, when you cross my mind, I chant, "just die."
Blaming us for what?
Shunning us because we fought?
Your manipulation of our minds will NOT be tolerated.
I am the watch dog of this family and will not let you belittle and derate.
I don't need your help and I promise to be better than you,
This is one of the few reasons I will continue living and that fatal day you shall rue.
You stole my childhood, you made me cower in fear, you broke my already fragile soul...
Therefore, allow me to dispose of that heart tainted to the level of corruption, the place where your heart was placed will become a jet black hole.
How sweet shall it be to see that that fragile, odd and silent girl you ignored or insulted,
Will be the end of you and all for she, for ten years and still going, has cultivated,
A garden of thorny roses, beautiful in all colors and tainted with your scarlet blood so saccharine,
That truly this is not a heavenly virtue but a mortal sin.
And yet, perhaps your demise shall not satisfy the craving I so dearly wish to be relieved of.
Perhaps you should continue to live and watch me become the things you wish you could be, but for money's sake, could not do and afford to love.
But that day will come and revenge will be sweet.
It will surely be the sweetest thing I could ever hope to eat~!
May 1st, 2013; 5:13 pm
Copyright © Nico Vivi | Year Posted 2013
After school the children unwind
with their own rhythm and vibes,
drowning out the noise of the
adult world that suppresses
So, on mute they travel all the
way home, oblivious to the
dangers that lurk within their
The innocence can be seen on their faces,
with ever bop of their head, and tap of
They feel immune to the creepy crawlers
lurking on the streets, waiting to snatch
them away for frolic and treats.
Copyright © Margeret Bailey | Year Posted 2011
Shades Of Grey
A peril of sort left my job moved up North
In islands in the stream some apparent evil scheme
Shades of grey by its means something don't actually turn out to what they mean
Shades of grey silver smile walk the old river Nile
A plate of fries evil pass getting to know the midnight pass
Shades of grey all torn up inside we will hide
Souts of joy then applause some may insist on it being a lost cause
Sadly we put up with the chill running down the spine evil swine
In deepened peril outside twilight Christmas Carol
Shades of grey how they swoon to its nightly visible tune.
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012
Challenged with this university question,
One researched Truth's 'whole confession.'
How many, to such a question, might dare say yes;
If God created evil then He is evil, one might guess.
But, then, one student did profoundly asked:
"Tell me professor, does cold exist to last...?"
The professor replied, "Of course it exists."
What was this brassy student's logic, or gist?
Amazingly, the bold student retorted, "That's not true."
"With laws of physics, cold is the absence of heat (for you)."
All can succumb to a proven study, as energy will transmit.
Cold does not exist; the word only describes how we feel, to fit.
The calm student continued, "Sir, does darkness exist?"
The confident professor retorted, "Of course it does."
The student replied, "Again, Sir, that's not right;
Darkness is actually the absence of the Light."
Newton 's prism is used to break light into colours of aura.
Wavelengths cannot measure an unilluminated area.
The light's ray can break a world of darkness, illuminating it.
Darkness is termed to describe the absence of light, present.
Finally the youth asked, "Sir, does evil exist?"
A bit unsure the man said, "Of course (not wanting to resist)."
At last the youth replied, "Evil does not exist Sir (neath God's rod)."
Evil does not exist 'unto itself,' it is simply the absence of God."
"God did not create evil, He created beings with free-choice."
The youth was Albert Einstein; I am 'only relating his voice.'
Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2007
You crucified my soul within,
With those sharp words you spoke.
You've taken away my life you gave,
Before my life was complete.
You chained me to this madness,
Of sick disoriented photos of pain.
And then you decided to toss me aside,
So this Hell bound evil could intoxicate my brain.
And under your swords of menace,
You punished my feeble heart.
And trashed me away into binges of hate,
So those demons inside could tear me apart.
And mutilated images of Hell,
Has fallen beyond my lost tormented soul.
And the evil seeds you planted inside,
Are blossoms of suicide that;ll always grow.
Why did you ruin such a pretty picture,
and taken away the only life I had?
I tried to be your perfect little daughter,
When you all were never, the perfect Mom and Dad!!!
Copyright © Tina Menser | Year Posted 2010
I just want someone to talk to!!!
Biting my nails wondering what on earth I'm I doing here. Hands are burning, my mind is running, Damn I just want someone to talk to!
Hear my cry, hear my yell the medication isn't working. Stop my dreams and let me see, Damn I just want someone to talk to!
Crazy and insane sometimes I don't think God even knows my name. looking fir that warmth touch, but no one to guide me, Damn i just want someone to talk to!
Drowning in my tears for all my fear reveilles. wanting that one person to say," damn do you need someone to talk to"!!
no one hears me, no one hears me, just like they didn't when my uncle was rapping me. damn I just want someone to talk to!
I can still feel him piecing my insides and asking me to ride. yelling no while he has my face down toward the floor. damn I just want someone to talk to!
Running to my mother but she doesn't listen, beating me for trying to tell her what she's been missing. damn I just need someone I can truly talk to!
nightmares and pain is ruining my life, my love has no time to listen. damn i just want someone to talk to!
no one to turn to so I use so I use the knife , it only feels my cry. bleeding on the inside, sometimes I feel like I want to die. damn I just want someone to talk to!
god what I'm I doing so wrong, for I am your child and I can't talk to you!
why won't he listen to my cry, God freeze everything so I can have him to talk to!
hear my cry, feel my pain, please hurry someone before I go and then you shall
know why i need someone to share my pain and talk to!
Patrice N. Jackson
Copyright © patrice jackson | Year Posted 2015
"Baby, don't leave me."
The mother said to the child
The mother was all the child knew
The mother needed the child's smile
The child didn't know the hell before it
The road to hell was paved in manipulation
The hell was a place the child never knew
A place that gave many lacerations
The mother never wanted a baby
All the mother wanted was a friend
But the child, she could mold it
The child, she could twist and bend
The mother could make the child stay
Let it be warm and let it feed
The child knew naught before its rescue
All the child knew was the plea
Copyright © Isabel Laracuente | Year Posted 2016