Long Child abuse Poems
Long Child abuse Poems. Below are the most popular long Child abuse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Child abuse poems by poem length and keyword.
I trusted you-that was stupid!
I was just a kid- you were so stupid!
What's love got to do with it!
I was just a kid.
I was just a kid...how dare you!
Think of me that way-how dare you!
Look at me that way-how dare you!
Touch me that way- how dare you!
You were always dressed in white. (I looked up to you)
You took away my pride. (I looked up to you)
So go on now, do your show of prayers.
Let's see if someone cares.
Every day you taught me well,
Reading, writing and to spell.
Why not teach me to do good?
And YOU do only what you should!
You helped me to climb rocks,
even to put on my socks.
You were like my big brother,
You said "Don't tell your mother".
You taught me to play ball,
Helped me make the team.
Helped me through it all,
You took away my self esteem.
I remember well, that look in your eyes,
Why don't you pick on someone else, your own size!
Only God can help me now, with all my rage,
Find someone else to play with, your own age.
Some people don't believe it, some even blame me too
But God will be the final judge, between me and you.
January 15,2013 revised October 6,2015
Curled up in a ball in the corner, down on
bended knee, waiting for a sign that someone
could hear me. No sounds were made,
no words were said.
I was just an alone child with a
cross to bear instead.
Heart broken, fragile picture perfect images,
of a tragic past and misguided souls.
Because of your influence,
I am the way that I am today,
too angry to love completely,
and too scared to say...
...what I really feel.
Oh, when will I heal?
Too guilty to think about me,
and too sad to really see,
all the good I'd been through-
Where were you?
I understand that you are here today,
and I find that ok,
but for arguments sake, did you ever
think what you had at stake?
A loving wife, and beautiful kids,
did you know when you came home,
in the corner I hid?
I would create drama's
to distract mom even more,
I made things even worse,
and then I was the bad girl.
With perfect long brown curls,
big deep doe eyes,
apprehensive to be myself,
wearing a disguise.
Believing empty promises...
-only lies.
A child should feel innocent and wear
sunny smiles on their lips,
not being chastised.
I was hurting while crying,
running while hiding,
having to take sides.
I grew up needing so much from
others for my own happiness.
But nothing is ever good enough...
-for me.
Because I don't deserve happiness,
not like they do.
I get sad from time to time,
and think I'll go out of my mind,
but the tears just don't solve,
all the years with no love,
-from him.
Curled up in a ball in the corner,
down on bended knee...
waiting for a sign that someone
could hear me.
alone-
waiting there...
with only a childhood cross to bear.
In The Corner Contest
Date Written: April 5, 2016
America you emerged from digression.'
A group of familiys, escaping home
Oppression.' You were not perfect.' Yet
Gave thanks..To The God of all Gods and
All creation Father of Christ.' Acknowledged the Holy Spirit as your guide.' And built a Nation here I speak no
Lie.' Yet you allowed a new religion its that
Of two party politics, and its brought division.' Not for the users of its powers
Their unity stands as a tower.' Above the
Fog and mist of life.' The struggles faced
By man and wife.' In truth by all, who toil
Below, fed false values..? It well looks so'
Where once Christian unity kept allied' a
Nation that as a beacon, shone
worldwide, i now see a divided troubled
Land ' with red and blue factions '
real
Awareness has it been,
outsourced.? And real integrity.?
Has that been banned.? When instead of
'taking the helpless broken and distressed' on to a better life
There is a 'solid state.' Of suspesion, and no redress.' A tale of two islands and horrors deep.' epstien and
Ellis the two it
Seems compete.? Why is this so.? How can it be.? In the home of emancipation
Under God.' Who granted you real liberty.'
The question i pose.' I hope will de-eraze?
A division of Christian values in your ruling
Place.' I here will pray America
you once more will stand true.' To your founding principles..Under those colors ' red white and blue.'
May God be your guide, once more may faith be
Found by great measure; in you.'
If I was asked to write something to reflect upon myself,
I’d remember all the hardships and struggles with my health-
When I was younger I suffered from child abuse and pain,
and now only memories of innocence lost does remain.
I grew up in shame with only my innocuous soul to blame,
for I was only a little girl who never expressed her name-
I wasn’t the same as the other children, but a lost doe,
covered in brokenness and shadowed by deep woe.
I grew older and held onto addiction that made me weak,
I flatlined on the table with words unable to speak-
Death was only for a few seconds, nonetheless I died,
when I awoke I noticed all my family had cried.
Something had to change, my life had to rearrange,
I was slowly becoming my father, mad and deranged-
I knew not of hope, no strength called upon me,
but the death of my soul opened my eyes to see.
Withdrawal became my days as I struggled for life,
for I was a mother of a daughter, a suffering wife-
I needed something to free my need for one more pill,
something to ease the guilt, my heart craved to be still.
Deep inside I knew I could overcome this addiction,
I saw my older sister conquer through conviction-
No one could save me except me and me alone,
so I sought out good counsel and to others I atoned.
Almost nine years later I see the light from my past,
with faith and hope that these healthy days shall last-
I’m a woman whose youth became a problem as an adult,
who had put herself first, as the blame came to a halt.
I need not substances to live-
I only have strength to give.
I help others to also be free...
...those who suffered like me.
The Poet's Own
August 21, 2017
you have draped your innocence in the warmth of muslin
your dark eyes speak of your loneliness in this strange land
your lips whisper within yourself your desires
when they should be screaming out loud for justice
do not shed precious tears amongst heartless men
they might just mock you and subjugate you more
an age when most would be unfolding outer petals
you are a flower that has been robbed of its garden
your mother weeps inconsolably at home in her dark lonely room
your world was stolen from you for the pleasure of men
yet darkest corners of life have embers of god’s light
I see you I am here to rescue your innocence
I shall sweep you in strong arms of love and carry you home to safety
to mother.
Catholic
Stern but saintly Father Meissen
scolded the parents for not having
their baby boy baptized sooner.
It was April, 1952,
inside the stained-glassed catholic church,
ensconced on sun-split Newlin street,
avenue of pink oleanders and cracking sidewalks.
According to the chagrined mother,
she was told that delaying this pivotal sacrament
for three complacent months,
after the boy’s birth on January 11,
was unequivocally unacceptable,
and that waiting so eternally and unendingly,
actually jeopardized her befuddled baby’s soul.
For if he had died, say in March of 1952,
unbaptized,
then his eternal soul, because of original sin,
would have been mercilessly subject
to the inscrutable tortures of hell,
and the lake of fire.
As per destiny, this glued-on scenario
was not realized, and instead,
the boy received the abundant graces
of a head-turning God that day,
as the boy’s shiny oblivious head
was gently and sanctimoniously doused
with priestly-blessed holy water, fresh
from the rippling baptismal fount,
anchored dogmatically with rusted rebar,
deep below the shadowy sacristy,
among the obstinate urns
and the dark-voiced Dominus vobiscums.
But now we hear his older, wiser voice,
undulating like a lark’s-heel after the begging,
hiding the treason of a reprobate mind,
fondling the prayers of ten thousand children,
crying silent astonished tears
into the cold marble baptismal fount;
A groping wet madness firmly set
among the kneeling statues, and the holy linens,
encrusted with fool’s gold and trusting threads.
What kept these stilled voices unheard for so long?
Why did they not speak before this somber time?
Why did they bend, roll over and
close their eyes so cooperatively?
So reverently?
No one can possibly speak
about the unspeakable, for
Father’s holy, righteous indulgences
were unequivocally unacceptable.
But it is too late now.
Mine eyes can clearly see now
the crying sunken skull at Golgotha,
turning its furious eyes away.
Form:
My God, You gave me Solomon’s own mind
A well of truth, so deep, so rich, refined.
Yet waves of war have beat upon my shore,
With wounds that shake me to my very core.
They come with snares—emotions torn and tried,
With whispered lies that mock and pierce my pride.
They touch my flesh, they crowd my weary sleep,
And still You watch, while I’m too weak to weep.
I know You, Lord—intimately, I’ve prayed,
But now it seems Your light has turned to shade.
Am I a pawn within some holy game,
A vessel marked with sorrow, shame, and blame?
They call me wicked, false, and yet I bleed—
These wounds bear witness to my silent need.
I feel defeated, torn by inward strife,
O God of mercy, breathe into my life.
Restore the heart that once burned pure with fire,
Revive the hope that sin would now expire.
Cure every thirst that draws me from Your side,
And heal this soul that’s wayward, double-eyed.
My hands are shaking, yet they reach for You,
Deliver me from all I think and do.
Addiction chains me, shame and guilt conspire—
But You, O Lord, are still my one desire.
So lift me, cleanse me, cast out every fear,
And let Your Spirit draw and keep me near.
Though crushed and low, I know that You still reign—
My God, my healer—bind and break these chains.
It's dark in here; but I'll hang
I should feel fear; I'm too young to understand such a thing
Why do I miss your touch? I was a child; you were a teen—
Life found no victim, just an object.
Your reject taught me things from 3 till 9.
Never had a childhood that was actually mine,
Oh, mother, why are my words a lie?
When his, you can not believe or deny
How did my heart begin to love?
A feminine touch so much...
Was but a toy that knew none such
Yet, here I am; cherishing the female form
Enjoyed is every moment where touch is warm
Finding happiness in long blocks and hours
Remembering moments that are better than ours
I picked up a pen for the first time to write you out
Wound up to be a night of sleep that I did without
By taking my innocence away from me
I wrote things to damn you in poetry
What a brother does, a child can not understand—
Life later found no object, just permanence
In this closet closed; from the bar, I hang
Screams, screeches, groans and wails,
Brutalities, agonies, torture, and blood,
Tear Gases, pallet guns, bullets and bombs
Humanity sobs, world is falling apart
Does anyone care?
Kids are blinded
Men are jailed
Women are molested
The old are tortured
Luckily, you have food
Billions are starving
You have a warm blanket
Trillions live under the frigid sky
Dreams are murdered
Voices are unheard
Wishes are being blurred
Every heart has become graveyard
Sweet melodies step down as Sighs take over the throne
Rainbow of Joy is washed off by the deluge of tears
Soul of humanity becomes a pray of endless wild Forest of Wars
While atrocities have robbed Jaws of their smiles..
Yet you say the world is beautiful??
Yeah, for you, as you are at peace….
Come out of your palace
You will see….
Sky painting itself red!
Butterflies renouncing their dreams
Birds with trimmed wings
Blood oceans, barren trees, burnt houses,
Teared eyes, and shattered bodies
Earth is ugly
Earth is savage
Earth is a cage
Earth is but a jinxed place
(10-02-2020)
Paghunda Zahid
Not enough love in the world
I hear the silence in the night,
fruitless searches for a mother not there...
Blurring the lines 'tween wrong and right,
wishing and hoping someone out there still cares...
Bridge 1
The craving for love never ends,
without it nothing else makes sense,
Oh love!!
Chorus
Where is the love?
tell me, why has it grown cold?
Where is the love?
Tell me now, 'cause I'm getting old
There's not enough love in the world
(No) there's not enough love in the world
The silence screams out in the night,
no one out there, to help her still her fears...
Life's lessons learned 'fore morning light,
hardened hearts no longer shed any tears
Bridge
The craving for love never ends,
without it nothing else makes sense,
Oh love!!
Chorus
Where is the love?
tell me, why has it grown cold?
Where is the love?
Tell me now, 'cause I'm getting old
There's not enough love in the world
(No) there's not enough love in the world
The curtain comes down on her life,
as she stares out at all the empty chairs...
Seems to come as a surprise,
her passing goes unnoticed by a daughter not there...
Bridge 2
The quest for love- still goes on...
Just keep hoping till all hope is gone
Oh love!
Chorus
Where is the love?
tell me, why has it grown cold?
Where is the love?
Tell me now, 'cause I'm getting old
There's not enough love in the world
(No) there's not enough love in the world
There's not enough love in the world
(No) there's not enough love in the world
repeat and fade
John Derek Hamilton
March 18,2018