Connie Pachecho Poet Free verse

He Hit Me

He Hit Me

I cry again
as sneak enters
the back door
stealth like to
uproot my
innocence
he hit me
he hit me
my cries
my words
went unheard
my pleas
my pleas
went unresolved
I shake the ground
to no one's consternation
or frowns
he hit me
I stood tall
I stood tallest
to his oppression
to his rules
and laughing ways
I have the pain
the bruises
and heartbreak
to show
to show
the ones 
in similar fates
to stand up for
one's beliefs
against his fist
his oppression
his restraints
his rules
and laughing ways
because in the end
I will always
have my dignity
and more dignity
than him
He hit me
I'll get back up
I'm tall
And proud
He hit me again
I'll get back up again
I'm tall, once again

connie pachecho

December 26, 2016

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CayCay Godwin January 25, 2026 at 8:44 PM Spirit led me from your blog to here, don't know why, but I know that between my emotions about AI and your poem, I'm an emotional goner at the moment. I should sleep and try to catch a good dream. This poem is emotive and written in a way that is reactive and adamant, a strong voice is speaking. If true, I hope they read this and it smacks them, otherwise said smacking will have to wait to occur on the other side in some form. Now, I'm going to pull up the covers and fly with Peter Pan. Connie Pachecho January 26, 2026 at 7:49 AM CayCay, thank you for the cup of tea. This one I’ll sip with caution. Let’s say the skies were dark on that Christmas Day, and the black bears came in and took the subject's parrot (the sequel to this poem is the second poem). The black bears refer to those that hit him (hence the title He Hit Me), and parrot refers to the subject's poetry. In other words, I wrote about a subject having the person’s account closed and finding 300 poems and 3 years wiped out on that Christmas Day. It was a teary moment. Maybe deserving. However, in every good fairy tale, there’s a happy ending, for on the day after Christmas, this subject rose from the ashes and got a new parrot …

Connie Pachecho January 27, 2023 at 4:42 PM Truth be told. Cat has to come out of the bag. He refers to my critics. Connie Pachecho January 27, 2023 at 4:44 PM For six years I kept this secret.

Jerry T Curtis March 7, 2017 at 8:13 PM I'm sorry your Dad abuse you

Doug Vinson December 30, 2016 at 7:59 PM Get away. It's sad that life is like that, sometimes, but I'm glad about the getting back up part. Connie Pachecho January 14, 2017 at 10:46 AM this poem was about as cryptic as can be. i think if people put the pieces of the puzzle together this poem makes a lot of sense. even the second one.