Best Physical Abuse Poems
A Broken Relationship
Soft tears rolled down her cheeks
as she rolled over to face his back,
for she knew in her heart so deep that
a love for her he did lack.
She had felt the relationship break
with the husband of her youth,
but how can it be Lord? He is father of my children
but, all the while she knew.
She thought, they used to be so happy
when in their youth walking hand in hand,
thinking nothing could touch them
when their love brought them wedding bands.
Yes, they had spats and arguments
along the way,
but thinking nothing so great
that away from her his love would stray.
Then physical abuse and threatening
from his mouth,
came and changed this fair romance
from what it once was all about.
So with tears streaming don her face
and a heart that was broken completely in two,
wondering Lord, will I ever be loved again
will I ever be able to say I do?
When he found his excuse to leave
stating because of her belief in Jesus the King of Kings,
he said, “it’s either God or me, you can’t have both,”
so she chose to give up her once precious wedding ring.
For she knew no man is so important
as harmony with God,
and she wanted to commune with Him forever
and to walk with Him on Heaven’s sod.
Yet though my life has not been so perfect
since I’ve given up my wedding ring,
I have peace with my Father, joy with His Spirit
and love from Jesus Christ, my King.
And now, the painful hurting memories
my Precious Lord did take,
and replaced them with some fond remembrances
all of His Wonderful Name’s sake.
Written by: Marilyn Jennings
It must be hard
To carry it around
That load of hate
Weighing on your heart
A powder keg
Waiting to explode
Hurting others but
Killing your own soul
You pretend it isn’t there
But now and again it shows
In what you say
In what you write
The sarcasm hidden under the sweet
The hate clothed in happy
And yet….
It’s there
For the discerning to see
It must be hard
To have it eat away at you
And not be able to voice
All those words
That are begging to be heard
Dying to hit the mark
A bull's eye victory
That brings relief
It must be hard
To keep them locked away
For fear of criticism
Of “losing face”
And yet….
They gnaw away at your being
Those sugar coated morsels of hate
For those inferior
Made of fluff
Not substantial
Not up to par
Medicore
Weak
Sniveling
Sappy
Sorry
Excuses of human beings
It must be hard
To be civil
To pretend to be kind
Thinking others are blind
To the real motives behind
Your words…..
Ah…if only you’d realize
The only one hurting
The only one who is weak
Is you
To love takes strength
To forgive takes power
To rejoice with others takes integrity
The finer qualities
To hate is easy
To love near impossible
Hate would dissipate
If you took some time to realize
The person who irks you
Who just rubs you the wrong way
Maybe has been rubbed the wrong way
As a child...
Sexually abused
Struck down by violence
Suffering from...
Emotional abuse
Sexual abuse
Verbal abuse
Physical abuse
Insecurity
Feelings of inferiority
He has hidden baggage too
Behind his false bravado
A heart that is in pain
Much like you
His brokenness plain
His tears in the rain
So no one can see
I know it must be hard
To try to change
To put away hate
But it’s not too late
To look inside
The one you despise
You just might be surprised
To see deep within
And there in his eyes
A reflection of all that comprises
the beauty of YOU!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Abuse comes in many forms and mentally stages
I may say it's mentally strange......
Victims abuse may not know....How to feel or tell
Some think there the crazy one...The one in the wrong....
Some live with it every second of the day....
Abusers love to attack, so their reality in life is safe....
It's the mental way out
Abuse is someone who hits you to get ...What they want...
Making you feel low about yourself....Have you put....
yourself down....To where your talking about yourself.....
Having you feel sorry ...for the abuser....the one attacking you....
The one putting you down....It's like a fix...for the abuser...it's a drug
It's a high you... the victim...gives the abuser....
Once the abuser is fix...and feels good
Your the one sitting there feeling locked up...
Feeling no way out...wondering ...
When the next round is coming.....
Such abuse can cause personality disorder.....
Either in the abuser or the victim....Because, yes...you are the victim
As the abuser is the patient...Who needs help....It's simple for the abuser...
to put the burden...of there illness on you...Their are many disorders
1.Narcissistic personality disorder
2.Borderline personality disorder
3.Antisocial personality disorder
You also have certain attacks, on abuse
1. Physical attack
2.Verbal attack
3.Sexual attack
You also have the forms in which abuse is written
1. Emotional abuse
2. Verbal abuse = is mental abuse
3. Sexual abuse
4. Physical abuse
The victim needs to restore confidence...
Realize it's not there fault
Abusers are cowards...and bullies....and the only way out
.....is to realize you are the victim....not the patient
I didnt know ...How to make it a blg...
For years I've watched the dark cloud, it's followed me wherever I go.
With tears my silence seems so loud, and darkness swallows my rising rainbow!
The demons I've tirelessly fought keep coming back to haunt me.
And the emotional peace I've sought, well, the memories just taunt me!
I find myself thinking of the pain, and ignoring the past is no use.
A frail child nearly drove insane by his grandfathers physical abuse.
That was me, all alone, and how was I going to escape those rough hands?
My poetry became my backbone that allowed my mind to travel to magical lands.
I was only in elementary, learning nouns and verbs.
I didn't understand things said to me, like certain names and curse words.
Grandmomma did her best, holding me to her breast, but he still managed to hit!
I was just a kid, but knew she suffered as I did, and that I could not forget!
The dark cloud of memory was so loud, I wondered if it would destroy me.
I had a phobia of crowds, and solitary was my sanctuary!
When a rainbow would rise in my sky, I got so damn afraid.
Because my darkness would intensify blanketing my strength in shade!
I have my good and bad days, and somehow I've managed to survive.
Beyond my dark cloud is the suns rays fighting to help me feel alive!
I feel the warmth on my skin, making its way to my heart.
My grandfathers sin may have hurt me, but I refuse to let it tear me apart!
Child abuse is more than bruises,
While physical abuse is shocking
Due to the scars it leaves,
Not all child abuse is as obvious.
Ignoring children's needs,
Putting them in unsupervised,
Dangerous situations, or
Making a child feel worthless, or
Stupid are also child abuse.
Regardless of the type of child abuse,
The result is serious emotional harm.
Physical abuse is just one type of child abuse.
Neglect and emotional abuse
Can be just as damaging and
Since they are more subtle,
Others are less likely to intervene.
While its easy to say that only
Bad people abuse their children.
Its not always so black and white and
Doesn't only happen in poor families or,
Bad neighborhoods.
It crosses all racial, economic and cultural lines.
Sometimes, families who seem to have it all
From the outside are hiding a different story
Behind closed doors.
While abuse by strangers does happen,
Most abusers are family members or
Others close to the family.
Child sexual abuse a hidden type of abuse.
The use of praise or rewards doesn't
Make children feel supported.
It makes them feel evaluated and judged.
In particular when praise is a technique,
We have learned from a book or a seminar,
It's likely to come across as false and contrived.
Praise and rewards, like flattery,
Can stink of our efforts to control
And lose our child's respect.
Focus the child on his/her own pleasure at achieving.
Help him/her to self-evaluate.
Children are born with an enormous desire to learn.
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Thank you for reading
Chitta
Should God grant me the power to create just one perfect day,
I would create the most perfect day for all peoples in every way.
There would be no war or strife, only longed-for blessed peace.
Love, compassion and brotherhood would reign without cease.
Cures would be found for all diseases and the blind would be made to see.
The homeless would be housed and hunger would ever cease to be.
World leaders would reason together and there would be no more greed,
And the message of The Golden Rule each and everyone would heed.
Little children would be free from physical abuse and molestation.
All religions would work together for harmony without hesitation.
From domination by despotic leaders, all peoples would be free.
All humanity would respect each other, the air, the land and sea.
Should God grant me the power to create that one perfect day,
Would it not be possible for ensuing days to be ideal in every way?
Growing up in a rundown estate
Statistics Predict the youths fate
Gathering in crowds, loitering with intent
Terrorising the weak there days are spent
Subject to verbal and physical abuse
Victims of the crowds drug misuse
They never let up, always a problem
Local authorities fail to solve them
acting out as they've been neglected
Wanting to be seen, heard and respected
They all have a past, story to hide
looking for support, someone to confide
Let down by society, branded as vermin
In an environment where there constantly learning
The Wounded Heart
Have you ever been hurt by the one you loved
Piercing pain as though a knife has been shoved
Deep into the heart reaching the soul
“Oh why, oh why, will I ever be whole?”
Then slowly, with a sorry and kisses you begin to heal
“Really, my love, I didn't mean the sorrow I caused you to feel”
The wound slowly closes leaving a small scar
It is small, outwardly the skin it does not mar
Life goes on and all is well again
“My love, my life, my very best friend”
The sun is shining the moon glows
Children are born, the family grows
Isn't it sad the little signs you ignore
You want to be loved by the one you adore
An insult here, a little put down there
Little lies to yourself, “For me, my love really does care”
It is only their childhood pain that makes them this way
“Yes, with my love, they will get better each day”
A knife deep in the heart reaching the soul
“Oh why, oh why, will I ever be whole?”
The wound starts to open, the little scar begins to bleed
It is not so small anymore, sorry and kisses will not heal it's need
Have you ever been hurt by the one you loved
Piercing pain as though a knife has been shoved
For some it is betrayal, addiction, or physical abuse
What about the children, around their necks you have allowed a noose
To choke out their innocence and assassinate their joy
Look at the faces of your little girl or boy
Is this the life you want for them
Hoping and praying your bleeding heart will heal when?
Without intervention sought by BOTH of you
This bleeding scar will not heal, this fact is true
When you choose to ignore that first inflicted pain
Thinking they really love me and will never do the same
Remember your future children and their hearts that could bleed
If you make poor choices to fill your own need
Have you ever been hurt by the one you loved
Piercing pain as though a knife has been shoved
Deep in our hearts reaching our soul
“Oh why, oh why, will we ever be whole?”
DON’T TOUCH ME
MEANS MORE THAN WHAT IT SEEMS
DON’T TOUCH ME
COMES FROM A WOMAN WHO'S BEEN
HURT
DON’T TOUCH ME
COMES FROM A WOMAN WHO'S BEEN
LIED TO AND PUSHED INTO THE DIRT
I REFUSE TO PRETEND ANOTHER DAY
DON’T TOUCH ME AGAIN
OR I SWEAR YOU'LL PAY
DON’T TOUCH ME SHOULD TELL YOU
THAT YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME
SO WHEN I SAY DON’T TOUCH ME
KNOW THAT IT GOES DEEP
DEEPER THAN YOU'VE EVER LOVED ME
DEEPER THAN YOUR MENTAL CAPACITY
DEEPER THAN ANOTHER EXCUSE
DEEPER THAN ALL OF THE MENTAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE
DEEPER THAN THE MOST HURTFUL THING
THAT YOU’VE EVER SAID
KNOW WHEN I TELL YOU
NOT TO TOUCH ME
IT COMES FROM A PITIFUL PLACE
DON’T TOUCH ME
COMES FROM BEING CALLED ALL THOSE PITIFUL THINGS
BEING PUT DOWN
BEING LET DOWN
REALLY IT’S A PITIFUL THING
DON’T TOUCH ME
COMES FROM ALL THOSE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS
WORRIED ABOUT YOU
ALL THOSE PITIFUL NIGHTS
DON’T TOUCH ME
COMES FROM YEARS OF TOLERANCE
JUST BECAUSE IT SEEMED LIKE A COMFORTABLE SITUATION
I WAS COMFORTED ALRIGHT
COMFORTED AFTER EACH BRUISE
BEING COMFORTABLE HAS NEVER HURT ME
WHAT HAS HURT ME IS SIMPLY BEING WITH YOU
YOUR TOUCH JUST
REMINDS ME OF ANOTHER LIE
ANOTHER HIT, EXCUSE
ANOTHER LULLABY
THEN YOU CHARM IT UP
AND TELL ME WHAT I WANT TO HEAR
THEN YOU TOUCH ME
AND THE CYCLE CONTINUES
SORRY, BUT NOT THIS TIME
SO PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH ME
YOU'RE JUST A LITTLE BOY
JUST LET ME BE
AND WHILE I WALK AWAY
HE WILL NOTICE JUST ONE MORE THING
THAT WOMAN THAT HE USED TO TOUCH
HAS FINALLY MOVED ON TO BETTER THINGS
ALL IN MY POET-TEA
Pain as a Hobby Parts I-IX
Written by Tavarus M. Moreland
Copyright 2010. All rights reserved
Sorry Yulli, it was little unfair to suggest the title
You’re only 23 but I promise to leave room
Heck by that time, I was on my 4th heartbreak
Walking on one of the girl of my dreams fulfilling
Other guys dreams!
I can do this in my sleep
Pain as a hobby
I don’t even feel it no more
My tear ducts have ran out of their supply
Instead it drips on my heart
And leaks through my finger tips
Too much water the ink smudges against the pad
When my first major commitment
Accuses me of physical abuse but she forgot
She was the one hitting me in the face in a car while
We are driving on an expressway going sixty miles per hour
I’m not snitching but I would have needed stitches if I didn’t block
the blows, or worse we could be dead.
What time is it?
Set your alarm
To Tavarus’oclock
I own your time now
Because I’m about to go off
O, mama how we forget
O, now I’m the vindictive liar
Because I wrote a book exposing the truth
Truth, amazing how people run from it.
Somehow they remember themselves being completely innocent.
Anything you attempt to use against me I can just turn it around
Call it alchemy but words are my metal
I can turn and bend them with my mind or use them however I feel
But, “Tavarus aren’t you a Christian”
Sorry again, it’s not as easy as you want it to be.
But Tavarus is Tavarus and Christ is Christ and
There is a big difference in between
Why don’t you give it a try since you have an opinion
Instead of trying to criticize
So before you think I have some screws loose
Just imagine yourself going through what I went through
I’m a pain expert, I can teach you want not to do
My word processor can’t handle all my colloquial but it really can’t keep up with
My soul and my mind and my heart.
But I’m winning this race
She claimed her rights as a young lady
And in the coming years a woman
She don’t want to be an endangered species hunted by violence daily
She got rights too…she’s a human
Stand against this bliss
Gender Base Violence a sure diss
No more verbal abuse, emotional abuse or physical abuse
It’s your rights to reject abuse, so claim it, good news
You can only be his victim
Only if you allow yourselves to be used by him
You’re no longer going to be told…shut up!
You’re worthless, or what you say is meaningless…Just stop!
Or you’re stupid or call you names to graphic to repeat
After that, he says he loves you you’re so sweet
Well, decide today…that behavior is unacceptable
The truth comes before the love…Whether Sharon, Susan or Mable
Cause if he truly love you
He won’t want to abuse you
Are my words credible, Gender Base Violence become a label
Let’s take action and fight with all our might
“Claim your Rights”
©Copyright November 28, 2011 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
People say its puppy love that we are showing.
I think its fully grown and keeps on growing.
I love her so much it hurts to be apart.
In the mornings when I see her, that's when my day starts.
We may be young, but we know what were talking about.
She is the one I'll always be with, there is no doubt.
It does upset me when she hangs out with her friends.
That's time together we didn't spend.
I'm not jealous, its just my interests I protect.
People know this so they give me respect.
Its Saturday night and I'm home alone.
Its getting aggravating she isn't answering her phone.
It kills me not to know what she's doing.
I know her guy friend likes her and is pursuing.
Finally she walks in, with this smiling grin.
Do you know what time it is, where have you been?
She apologizes, but knows this is only the beginning.
She doesn't argue anymore, she has no chance at winning.
Soon these words turn into physical abuse.
After it, they make up and call it a truce.
He always says, baby I'm sorry I just easily scare.
I just want to show you how much I care.
She always accepts him back and turns the page.
Now they're in love again, its called the honeymoon stage.
She is no longer his girl friend, she is now his prisoner of love.
Now she is in a vicious cycle she can't get out of.
Here is a rule, one hit is one too many.
If its true love, then there would never be any.
Though many have lost the battle, can I go forward in a worthy pursuit?
For those whose pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to an unhappy halt,
could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
Can I have my cake and eat it too? Can it be beautiful and forbidden too?
Am I listening to the sound of music never designed for winners?
Do I look with glee through glasses neither half full nor half empty?
Am I salivating over portraits created by mirages in the desert?
Are marriages endurable or even survivable?
The continuous grind of interpersonal conflicts;
The verbal, emotional, and physical abuse;
And the devastating effects of ‘an affair’;
The rights of life and liberty;
And the pursuit of happiness too;
true values, deeply rooted in the fiber of my being.
The purchase of certain liberties demands a hefty price.
I then consider the pleasure gained versus a life of pain.
So, I pause to ponder the horrendous cost of broken vows.
But why do I not turn my eyes, and slowly walk away?
Why do I allow such noble dreams to become nightmares?
With two ears, I pursue chastity.
In one ear I hear a voice, saying,
“With just one secluded night of infidelity,
you could be infused with adventure and pleasure”.
That voice, so crystal clear, so pleasing and promising;
It’s the sound of charm and enchantment; a costly voice.
So, I close the other ear that’s projecting a voice of caution and reason.
It says to me, “Please don’t because you would lose a lasting bond of trust”.
Is it just me, or do I see a dying breed of the trusted and the faithful?
Is it just me, or are we growing indifferent to the tried and the true?
I hear the noise of fun and games, but I hear the children crying too.
Is there anybody trying to be reliable, like the rising and setting sun?
04282015PSContest, A Sexy Surreal, Lewis Raynes
A featured poem on PS the week of 080122
A deep, dark kindred spider looms to proffer the sentiment,
That abuse just objectifies the long persistent winter:
Scouring around playfully, but embedded in the night -
Two way of seeing it but only one plight.
That black body, its piercing eyes drive acutely,
In the lengthy web that’s receptive but selfish with quirk,
With thin, spindly legs which effect to mobilise,
The creature only some befriend to glamourise.
We hold to the summer, autumn and spring as the norm,
Not winter’s harrowing chill which makes us so often ill;
The act of telling someone you've been raped, abused,
Should not be a sick kick or a jester’s a thrill.
If you don't give us our minds, stance and chirps,
You'll just be cushioning that admiring psychologist,
Who asks us about physical abuse, sexual, and rape,
But who we hate to have as we’ve no trait.
Give us our spirits, intellect and powers:
Don't glare, glance and glower at our ordinary activities;
Equality only exists when you feel it and can tower,
In the informal social networks of civil conviviality.
And of course, nasty small talk itself causes rape,
Violence and abuse which derides and can shape,
The heart that reaches out to befriend and welcome,
The fence-sitter, the open mind who quietly relates.
But if you say physical abuse just objectifies other lesser evils,
Like criticising needlessly, cutting us off, and gloating,
Then your sick in the head and unforgivable,
Because all discrimination is unnecessary and avoidable.
Look at you now
All bloated and stinking
Feeding the maggots and flies
What were you thinking?
Did you think it would last?
Your rein of malicious intent
All the days of physical abuse
And nights of hellish torment
Your belittling ways, gave you such a thrill
How you chipped away at my sanity
Breaking not only my bones
But my dignity and will
You tried to control my thoughts
Your power over me you had to prove
By binding my heart and soul
So tight I could barely move
I had become just a toy
To amuse your twisted mind
To my misery and unhappiness
You were unaware and completely blind
But your cruel games are now over
Your time of tyranny is through
It was my life I had to defend
And that’s why I had to kill you
I wish they had not found you
Revenge or satisfaction I never really got
I wanted to feel your soul suffer
And watch your body rot!