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Dark Poetry #2
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boji stone
Member
since 2000-08-13
Posts 62
USA

0 posted 2000-09-02 05:59 PM


They say you'll get use to it
     bit by bit, case after case,
     until finally one day, you'll achieve
     these layers that protect.
     You'll see it, they say,
     but you won't feel it.
     I walked away before
     I reached that point.
     Sometimes, what they say,
     is not the way it is.

     My first experience.
     The house was basically average,
     if there was any thing exceptional,
     it was extraordinarily clean.
     I suppose I was
     expecting to see a chamber
     of horrors, chaotic filth,
     something that would attest to
     the atrocities
     that had occurred
     within the walls.
     I walked into the kitchen
     and found her hovering
     in the corner with
     small spindly legs
     tucked under her chin.
     She was whimpering
     and dabbing at the tears
     on her face.
     There were angry scars, cigarette
     burns, covering her emaciated torso.
     The house was spot less, She was filthy.
     Strands of stringy dirty hair fell
     over her eyes, making it difficult
     to view facial features, still
     I was able to recognize the fact
     that her nose had been broken
     not once, but several times.
     There were three other children in the
     family, yet she was the only
     one with signs of abuse. The Step
     Mother for irrational reasons, loathed her.
     Beyond the physical attacks, when
     the child misbehaved she'd
     strip her naked and put her
     outside, leaving her for
     hours in the elements.


     I stared, the disfigurements made her appear
     almost inhuman, for a
     moment I lost control. Turning away
     I struggled to gain my composure.
     When I turned back she was
     looking at me with sad listless eyes.
     I ached to take her in my arms
     and somehow erase the horrors,
     but of course that was impossible.
     Squatting beside her, I slowly extended my hand.
     “My name's Dianne, I said, what's yours?”
     She coiled, pressing closer to
     the wall, suspiciously she searched
     my face. I really didn't
     expect an answer......then for reasons unknown,
     hesitantly she extended
     her tiny hand, and whispered, Beth.



~the breath, a mystery
of it's own ~~

© Copyright 2000 Purple Di - All Rights Reserved
Lonelypoet
Member
since 2000-05-10
Posts 123
Conklin,NY,USA
1 posted 2000-09-02 08:19 PM


Great poem!! I hope though that this story isn't true becuase no one should have to suffer like that...

Dreams are the the gateways to making the impossible possible
So many words, for the broken heart...

boji stone
Member
since 2000-08-13
Posts 62
USA
2 posted 2000-09-02 09:37 PM


it's not my story, but it is
true....such horrors. The child
is now a lovely woman, who abhors no bitterness. Amazing, isn't
it?  thank you very much!

bj

~the breath, a mystery
of it's own ~~

catalinamoon
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-06-03
Posts 9543
The Shores of Alone
3 posted 2000-09-02 10:28 PM


How horrible that so many children endure this. And comendable of you to write it so well. Take care.
catalinamoon

Honeybee
Member Ascendant
since 1999-12-26
Posts 5372
Ontario, CANADA
4 posted 2000-09-02 10:41 PM



Very well written!  I am so glad that you wrote this and shared it here for all to see how damaging child abuse really is.  The ending took my breath away.  

Take care,
Melissa Honeybee


The beauty of poetry gives my soul wings to fly free within dreams



qtpieelmo
Senior Member
since 2000-07-04
Posts 989
Sesame Street :) hee hee ,NY
5 posted 2000-09-03 02:56 AM


Wow this 1 brought tears too my eyes. Only because it hit too close to home. My story is very similiar & I cringe whenever I see an innocent child go through something so horrifying! Great poem LOVE ELMO  
Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
6 posted 2000-09-03 04:30 AM


boji stone,
passionate and disturbingly trusting poem. Boji did you ever get used to it. I know I don't.
Be well
Kethry


"It is the image in the mind that links us to lost treasures;
but it is the loss that shapes the image,
gathers the flowers weaves the garland."-

boji stone
Member
since 2000-08-13
Posts 62
USA
7 posted 2000-09-03 08:25 AM


To, LonelyP, Cat, MHoneyBee, Elmo, and Kethry:

Thank you all for reading, and
responding.....this is not
my story, but an experience
I was told about. I felt the
need to write it. I hope
I was able to convey the
sad terrible tragedy,
thank you again!

bj

~the breath, a mystery
of it's own ~~

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