Long Child abuse Poems

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Premium Member A Regressive Definition of Terrorism

They're truly dumbfounded as to why hordes of parents are pissed.
That their children are being labelled inherently racist. 
or perpetually oppressed...
When all children want to do is share a square of sand 
(no regard to the color of skin).

They're truly clueless as to why hordes of parents are pissed.
That their children are being drilled on complicated topics of sex.
When they don't even know how to spell or do simple math.

They're truly dumbfounded as to why hordes of parents are fighting back.
Against "teachers" and administrators who want to shove innocence down their dark rabbit hole of hormonal tinkering, genital mutilation, and moral oblivion.

Let them grasp what a noun is before tossing funhouse pronouns at them.
Let them walk a rainbow instead of constantly being slapped in the soul with a barbed version of it.
In short, let them be children... 
Fill their heads with the blossoms of literacy, kindness, and respect.
Don't fill their hearts with the ball bearings of every societal tremor.

I'm dumbfounded as to why they fancy labeling attentive parenting an act of terrorism.


Shattering the Unbroken Cycle

Shattering the Unbroken Cycle

Bully's shadow looms, a pervasive stain
across all sectors, absurd, yet sustained

Governments and schools deny workers' rights
incentives, facilities, and dignity's light

Seniors torment juniors with blows and pain
emotional scars, hunger, and shame's stain

Educators wound with words, with physical might
abuse and fear, a toxic, endless night

Domestic walls conceal violence and despair
husbands, wives, and shattered vows laid bare

Governments neglect, oppress, and deny
basic rights, humanity, and a chance to thrive

Even sacred spaces hide oppression's face
wealth and power, a sharp, humiliating knife's pace

Do we bully for fleeting power's sake?
Is happiness not our purpose, our heart's ache?

Can't we choose kindness, unity, and love?
Break bully's chains, send humanity from above
Form: Lyric

The Poet's Own

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
Form: Couplet

The Ten Commandments, Remastered

I. 
Thou shalt have no other before me.
Worship me, my child. Bow down to me. 
Worship the undeserved gift of my presence. 
 
II.
Thou shalt not question my judgement.
Those who forget their place must be corrected. 
Mercy is wasted on what bites back.

III.
Thou shalt not take my name in vain.
Keep your mouth sealed when I curse yours.
Listen and do as I say. 
 
IV.
Remember the walls, and keep them holy.
Do not leave them. Do not dream beyond them. 
The world outside is meaningless. 
 
V.
Honor thy father and ignore thy mother’s cries.
Her tears are weakness, and your obedience is strength.
Learn to love the sound of my pleasure. 
 
VI.
Thou shalt not heal.
Your pain is devotion. Your hunger is discipline.
To seek relief is to break. 
 
VII.
Thou shalt not desire.
Desire is for me and your husband. 
Your body is a burden to be hidden, then handed over.
 
VIII.
Thou shalt work until your bones ache.
Then walk home alone, and maybe the night will teach you your place. 
You do not deserve my fortune or protection. 
 
IX.
Thou shalt not keep secrets. 
Keep your doors open so I may see all I own. 
Let no thought be private. Let no yearning be yours.
 
X.
Thou shalt not love.
Not her, not kindness, not change.
You, my dear, were born to serve, not to feel.

The Cry of a Suffering Child

The cry of a suffering child
if you have to do it 
do it for the sake of the children
for too many have lost 
the value of child hood 
too many are out of care 
too many are naked with out 
parental care in our ghetto streets
were reality speaks the truth of corruption
our community bleeds 
our thirds world are still exploited
it bleeds yes it bleeds 
so if  you are willing 
to help for a change 
if you have to do it 
do it for the sake of the children

The cry of a suffering child
let a child grow 
let them grow with care 
let them live young with out torture
let their mind be filled 
with the moral values of truth 
don't forget you will get old 
one day 
and if we allow this young ones 
to suffer 
our old age has no guarantee
so let help build a better world 
with out a child abuse 
so if you have to do it
do it for the sake of the children

The cry of the suffering child 
starvation
isolation
torture
suffering 
please chase them far 
from a child 
they are innocent of 
our calamities
they deserve the best care 
they deserve the best moral values
our tomorrow is better 
only when we care for them 
so if you care 
help save a child 
if you must do it 
do it for the sake of the children

the cry of the suffering child 
if you have to do it 
do it for the sake of the children
let every child be protected
so young from suffering
for too many child
crys for help in distance places
let every child be feed 
by every good need 
they need to grow 
above all save a child 
from been abuse 
save the value of every child 
every were 
every place 
every countries
every streets 
so our future could be save 
if you have to do it 
do it for the sake of the children
Form: Epic


Premium Member playground scars

Little Girl swings in the air,
legs pumping, wind in hair
the closest to flight she’ll ever be.
freedom and fairytales whisper in her ears,
telling her with each swing, she’ll be closer to the clouds.

Little Girl and Little Boy swing in the air,
legs pumping, wind in hair,
‘friends forever’ echo in their laughter.
their shadows chase after them in the shade of the trees
and disappear in the sun.

Little Girl and Little Boy walk to the playground.
Little Boy’s hands cover Little Girl’s mouth, 
no escaping sound.
her shadow disappears and his darkens.

Little Boy’s hands crawl over her body,
and Little Girl screams with no voice.

Little Girl’s ‘no’ is a game he now plays,
seeing how long until his friends focus their gaze,
laughing and pointing and poking and touching,
no this is not a phase. 

Young Man steps into a dorm.
Young Woman is cornered by the upcoming storm
and he grabs her and smiles.

finally alone again she cries,
her skin burns with anger 
fear and disgust become her reflection
she scrubs her skin,
but the dirt does not wash away.

Little Girl stares at her bedroom wall
she rewinds the clock, trying to stall
but when the sun sets, his shadow emerges
and hers runs to hide in the Land of Innocence.

Old Woman turns on the tv
Old Man is surrounded by red and blue lights.
Little Girl’s wails turn into a siren’s
Old Woman cries new kinds of tears,
her first smile appears after 75 years
freedom, relief, breathing again.

Old Woman swings in the air,
legs pumping, gray traced hair
no longer alone.

Little Girl holds her hands which no longer shake,
she clutches her heart, there’s no more ache.
they smile and watch as their shadows swing in the sunset,
flying fast,
healed at last.
© Oliver Chu  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Abandoned Children

We need orphanages.
So abandoned children can be cared for,
receive three hot meals a day, be helped
with their homework. 


We need orphanages to be 
Quiet places where children can think.
Away from loud angry music
And loud angry adults who abandon them
in spirit, and attitude way before they
are physically abandoned,

We need orphanages
Where adults can help children
Learn how to be children.

We need orphanages
Where children don't have to take care of their parents.
Where children don't have to fix their own supper.
Where children don't have to worry about being evicted,
where children don't squat in unheated abandoned buildings.

We need orphanages
Where children aren't threatened if they tell the truth.
We need orphanages for the abandoned children, so 
they can safely grow up.

We need orphanages.


Written June 13, 2018  Abandon Contest Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri

Bitter Pill To Swallow

We know you must break the law to join them,
So why are we pandering to them,
Letting them rule too many streets,
And even whole towns.

Is it not way past time for push back?
To grow some backbone,
And say to them,
If you sell our sons and daughters drugs,
And they commit a crime you will get double the sentence they get. 

We should also tell them importing the ingredients for making drugs,
Could be deemed as an act of treason,
As they have no regard for the nation,
And may well be helping terrorists flourish.

Can we afford to let these organised criminals?
Posing as gang members grow any stronger,
If we want to be fit to champion the cause of all the,
Bright, wonderful, yet extremely vulnerable children.

Is it not time to give them the message?
That their time is up,
And the choice of what happens next is theirs,
As to whether they want to spend time in the sun,
Or take the chance our backbones will remain unfit for the task.

Fear Is Exposed

Run away
Run from fear
Fear of fighting
Fear of violence
Violence scares
Violence erupts
Erupts through families
Erupts in the home
Home was a haven
Home should hold love
Love is gone
Love neglected
Neglected by parents
Neglected alone
Alone in a city
Alone and cold
Cold in body
Cold in heart
Heart bleeds
Heart break
Break given
Break accepted
Accepted friendship
Accepted with trust
Trust with innocence
Trust but duped
Duped and drugged
Duped into abuse
Abuse followed by abuse
Abuse by Man
Man can be rotten
Man is surely sick
Sick in mind
Sick head
Head screaming
Head in pain
Pain by ink brand
Pain covets death
Death threats
Death witnessed
Witnessed abduction
Witnessed noted
Noted confirmed
Noted exposed
Exposed by evidence
Exposed begins rescue
Rescue from slavery
Rescue from trafficking
Trafficking is criminal
Criminal is slavery

8th March 2017


Was so inspired by the blitz poem I read by J Amorose yesterday that I decided to have a go myself.
Form: Blitz

Premium Member Reflection

Reflection. What is it to you?
Reflection. What is it to me?

To me, it is a look back into yesterday
In search of ancestral wisdom.

To me, it is a beneath the surface consideration
Of my present situation in hope of obtaining
Gratification and a measure of growth herein.

To me, it is a hopeful and visual anticipation
Of a better tomorrow.

To me, it is like consuming a refreshing drink
Of cold water on a hot summer day.

To me, it is a look within in search of my What,
My when, my who, my where, my why, and my how.

To me, it is a careful and prayerful gaze within
That I may uncover the three dimensions of time
And catch the reality of God through Christ.
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