Connie Marcum Wong Poet Free verse

The Final Blow

The broom handle 
         came down swift.
Bruise bumps 
          rising on my skin
    Without      within.
I screamed and cried 
          with each blow
'Till I heard 
           the handle crack.
I don't remember what I did
            but anger flushed 
her contorted face and 
            her weapon was the 
broom this time.
            I struggled to get the
broom from her grip...
            She feigned to faint, 
I left her there on the floor.
           At nineteen, I would 
flee and that would be 
           the last time she
would ever get to beat on me.

9-3-16

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

James Inman September 15, 2016 at 10:49 AM Sad, I feel sorrow for the circumstance but we are who we are because of what we have experienced, both good and bad. Strong and, I imagine, difficult write Connie.

Carrie Richards September 11, 2016 at 12:08 PM Just 'knowing' you via Soup these several years, Connie, to know of your bright attitude, kindness, and warmth....I can't imagine anyone ever finding the slightest cause to break your spirit in such a cruel and inhuman way. God Bless you for being a survivor, and making your life an example of courage. Hugs !! Connie Marcum Wong September 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM It was that time when kids were to be seen and not heard. Many had it worse Carrie. Thank you for your kind comments. They are much appreciated. Love, Connie ; )

Phyllis Babcock September 8, 2016 at 11:18 AM Gosh hope this is just a write and not the truth. No person ever deserves to be hit in any way. Sad story. love phyl Connie Marcum Wong September 8, 2016 at 2:38 PM Thank you Phyl. Soup mail.

Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 10:35 AM Thank you daver. Soup mail.

Daver Austin September 7, 2016 at 10:13 AM A burst of freedom. This is explosive, Connie. Is it factual? Love, Dave Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 10:35 AM Thank you Daver. Soup mail.; )

Winged Warrior September 7, 2016 at 9:33 AM One of the horrible things we endure in life...hopefully not true...but the truth always surfaces...great write my friend...stay strong if it is...god bless...^WW^ Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:05 AM Thanks a lot WW. I have a wonderful family and am very happy now. Blessings, Connie: )

Jan Allison September 7, 2016 at 2:20 AM this is so sad so chilling - no one knows what really goes on behind closed doors Connie:-( hugs Jan xx Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:07 AM Very True. I feel we all have certain lessons to learn in our lives and that is the reason we are here. Blessings, Connie. : )

Michael Ainsley September 6, 2016 at 9:35 PM Bravo!Good for you.You turned out a lovey loving Lady Connie. Came by to say hello. Thalia. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:08 AM Thank you much Thalia. So nice to see you. Blessings, Connie : )

CayCay Godwin September 6, 2016 at 7:43 PM I'm speechless. While I love the drama and how it is vividly, emotionally expressed, I am horrified to think it may not be fiction. If real, I'll console myself knowing it is part of the journal that led to you, being you. I want to hug you! This write is going to sit with me tonight ... CayCay (did you get Soup mail from me?) Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:10 AM I will go answerit CayCay. Thanks, Connie : )

Joanna Daniel September 6, 2016 at 4:30 AM I hope this is fiction, Connie:) sounds sadly real.. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:24 AM My family was dysfunctional, but we learn what we are here for. That is how I look at it. : )

Manmath Dalei September 6, 2016 at 12:18 AM Hi Connie, Nice poem .It may or may not be a real story, but this is happening. Thank u very much for keeping me in ur mind.........//:) hugs Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:26 AM You are most welcome Manmath. So nice to hear from you. Thank you, Blessings, Connie : )

Andrea Dietrich September 4, 2016 at 5:47 PM awesome title too.

Andrea Dietrich September 4, 2016 at 5:47 PM wow, Connie. This feels very real and I bet it happened to you from things you have told me about your past. Good for you, for standing up and leaving. GREAT expression of your emotions in free verse form. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:27 AM Thank you Andrea. Poetry is cathartic and is freeing.hugs, Connie

Paul Callus September 4, 2016 at 5:15 PM Oh how awful! who knows how long the abuse had been going on! At least the courage was found to stand up to her violent ways. Very well expressed, Connie #7 Regards // paul Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:28 AM Thank you very much Paul. Blessings, Connie : )

Kim Merryman September 4, 2016 at 11:33 AM Connie, I sure hope this is fiction. Pain and desperation come through loud and clear. A great write about a terrible event. Blessings! Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:30 AM Thank you very much Kim. Soup mail : )

Eve Roper September 4, 2016 at 10:16 AM :'( Connie, Wow! I don't know what to say. Very real imagery I was 15 when my mother corned me in the bathroom and did this same thing. Hugs Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:37 AM I can relate Eve. I bet you treat your children much differently. Thank you. Blessings, Connie : )

Richard Lamoureux September 4, 2016 at 9:19 AM This is a sad story. I can relate which is why I left home at an early age. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:38 AM So many had to leave home this way and it is sad. Thank you Richard. Blessings, Connie : )

Ralph Sergi September 4, 2016 at 8:13 AM A great but poignant poem. I have known people in that circumstance. unfortunately ,the beat goes on. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:40 AM That is life Ralph. It is what you learn from life experiences it is important. Thank you very much Ralph. blessings Connie ; )

Daniel Turner September 4, 2016 at 7:52 AM Hopefully just a poem! My old man used to grab the neatest object handy. It made me a very angry person for a lot of years. Very sad write Mrs Connie. Connie Marcum Wong September 7, 2016 at 11:42 AM Thank you very much Daniel. Soup mail : )

Probir Gupta September 4, 2016 at 6:52 AM Nice ... Read with interest and pleasure ...