Trauma Childhood Poems | Examples
These Trauma Childhood poems are examples of Childhood poems about Trauma. These are the best examples of Childhood Trauma poems written by international poets.
When hurt, disappointment, and trauma knock you down time and time again, you cling to control. You try to control everything from your day down to your breathing. You lose your grip on control.
You try to carry it all because no one can do it as well as you can.
But it’s too heavy.
You’re tired and worn down to the bone.
You need to learn to share the load, but have been burned too many times.
You need to learn to share, even if you’re scared of the fall after the high.
You can’t control everything.
That kid at eleven before his first kiss
is the kid that I really, really miss.
Every kid thereafter
was more tears than laughter,
molding the world-weary cynic that this old man now is.
So, you had a childhood.
That doesn't make you special,
I had one too.
You consume the trauma,
regurgitate it
so others can say if we had known
we would have done something;
but they did know
and did nothing.
Now you make sure they squirm
as you stick hot needles
into their consciences,
let their guilt undo their platitudes,
and let me watch you torture;
let it cleanse me,
for I am your sister
and have eaten from the same bowl
of trauma as you.
Adversity passed down the line
Like drinks at the bar
We all carry common trauma
Healing from the same scars
Lugging comparable baggage
Distorting our point of view
Hard to change the narrative
So stuck with what we knew
Uncertainty a staple surrounding us
Jumbled up family histories
Longing for connection
As trying to solve life's mysteries
Creating a culture of kinship
Forcefully building bonds
Speaking the language of loyalty
Is how we correspond
Shared sense of allegiance
Willingness to sacrifice was steadfast
Unwavering ability to show up
Developing roots that will everlast
May have gotten missed in the past
But nobody left behind this time around
No longer alone anymore
As now being seen after finally be found
MIXED EMOTIONS
Mother deserved every bit of my love
She was my first love
She was the love of my teenage years.
I lived without the love I loved
High atop the stairs I sat, waiting
Torn between poverty and pseudo power.
Did you not know love grows?
A single flower blooms on pavement
A helpless pup found in abandonment
A cornered bird cared for
Deeply buried love can be unearth.
The pain of going astray
Blinding fog of delay
Who cared I drifted?
Looking for love in wrong places, when
All along it brewed within.
*
I loved riding my
bike as a child. It offered
me a new world view.
I was fast and free.
Then we put cards in the spokes,
and I motorcycled.
I cut corners like
a politician and wore
aviator glasses...
I could have passed my
driving test, last year - but nooo
- for once - I was chill.
I'm sure the trauma
of my laziness will scar
me, but - maybe not.
Sometimes I'm
SO resilient that people
think me uncaring.
Warning: People may
be far more emotional
than they might appear
If you step on a crack
You will break your mother’s back.
When she made us mad.
It’s all we had.
We would spend hours
Jumping on the sidewalk crack.
It never worked.
So terribly glad.
Do not walk under a ladder
Or break a mirror.
You will have bad luck
From there to here.
If a black cat walks across your path.
You can shudder and shake.
For your life
This will break.
If you see the tooth fairy
You will not get any money at all, simply no dough.
If you see Santa,
Presents he will take home to the North Pole.
Friday the thirteenth.
All things bad will happen to you.
You cannot stop it, honey
Childhood trauma sticks to us like glue.
childhood trauma strengthened her resolve
heartfelt survivors instinct
perilously fearless
42.
Play the amusement park tune
Start the carousal going round
The child always wants the ride
Recall the eerie childhood sound
My ugly unwashed hair
Crooked brown stained teeth
The shame of poverty’s snare
The dysfunctional disease
Bring out the youth’s trauma
Make it a Technicolor show
Where the past belongs in gray scale
To make drama, memories must grow.
Mistakes that will not fade
Sticking to my sides like glue
The wound that mother made
Am I unclean beyond repair?
Mama's Mad
That woman there is my mama
Make her mad means certain trauma
With deadly aim
Your butt she'll claim
Its all part of mama's drama!
Taken from the phrase..
If mama's not happy, nobody's happy!
For Joe's contest.