Vickie Hurtt - Thayer Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

This poem is my reflection about me just starting out in life just doing what teenagers do. All my dreams about my future were crushed by way of the dirty hands of a forty year old man. This poem explains the pain that never leaves an abused child, and how it scars one for life.

BURYING DIRT

I was twelve once,
long brown hair,
big brown eyes,
men always stared.

I was twelve once,
smart and witty,
some would say,
I was pretty.

I was twelve once,
dreamed about life,
would I someday,
become someone's wife.

I was twelve once,
got knocked down,
was not allowed,
to make a sound.

I was twelve once,
cried all alone,
this glass house,
doesn't throw stones.

I was twelve once,
grew up fast,
stuck on twelve,
my hearts harrased.

I was twelve once,
from long ago,
still feeling affects,
from his blows.

I was twelve once,
and you forty,
I can't forget,
our slumber party.

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David Fisher November 10, 2023 at 5:12 AM Thanks for sharing this emotional poem, Vickie. I'm sure it helps to write about these things. I've found in life that we need to feel in full, deep in our core, past pains to move on freely. Vickie Hurtt - Thayer November 10, 2023 at 6:24 AM Thanks David, I agree.

Ilene Bauer November 9, 2023 at 1:17 PM sad and very powerful, vickie! i'm sorry you had to go through that... Vickie Hurtt - Thayer November 9, 2023 at 1:34 PM Thank you, IIene. It was many years ago, but still hurts.