Inner Child
Inner child, forever confused?
Puzzled by alcohol misused.
His angry dad when so infused,
Did with hand, belt and bat abused.
Inner child, cruelly accused,
With arms and hips then deeply bruised.
His ‘self’ reduced and made diffused,
Mental pain left talents unused.
Inner child, who was once enthused,
Broken by violence, excused.
Mind distorted by truth refused,
Shrouded by lies mum circumfused.
Inner child is with hope transfused
And, by sound help, self-love infused.
Where visceral doubt, once oozed,
This inner child now disabused.
(Disabuse: To persuade someone that a belief is mistaken)
Dedicated to the Rev. Antony Barraclough, whose spiritual guidance and humanity, enabled me to find hope and peace among the living.
Copyright © Ross Blade | Year Posted 2016
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