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Open Poetry #25
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hoot_owl_rn
Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750
Glen Hope, PA USA

0 posted 2003-04-04 06:55 AM


it wasn’t my business

she was three years old
with blonde hair that hung in ringlets
around her small face
and i couldn’t help but notice
how she rarely wore shoes
how ragged her tiny ill-fitting clothes were
how she never smiled
and how the bruises in different stages of fading
she wore like battle scars on her body
i noticed it all
but it wasn’t my business

her mother was only 20
petite quiet and pretty
she worked days at a local restaurant
making tips to pay the rent
and i couldn’t help but wonder
how sometimes even on cloudy days
she donned dark glasses
or how sometimes even in the summer
she wore long sleeves and a turtle neck
i wondered about it all
but it wasn’t my business

her dad was in his 30’s
and i was told he once served time
for armed robbery on a local grocery store
he sported a mass of tattoos as black as can be
and a temper to match
he stayed home all day
drowning his life in the bottom of a bottle
and at night through the thin plaster walls
i could hear his shouts of anger
cursing and fists hitting the wall
as he showed his disapproval at his family
i could hear it all
but it wasn’t my business

and today i stare at a newspaper
laying on my cluttered dinning room table
and the front page story in stark black and white
gives the account of how last night
a mother and her 3 year old child
were murdered at the hands of husband and father
and i can’t help but think about
how last night out of my pleasant dreams
i was awoken by screams
and i struggled to go back to sleep
slightly disturbed by what i finally realized
and i thought perhaps today i’d call social services
but it really wasn’t my business
or was it?


.
.
.
(Let's all make it our business)




~ Ruth

If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.
  
  


[This message has been edited by hoot_owl_rn (04-04-2003 06:58 AM).]

© Copyright 2003 Ruth Kephart - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2003-04-04 06:59 AM



I remember.

When we see a person only once in our life, and notice some of these things, but rush of time, place, lives push us on, all we can leave behind in our wake is a prayer...

but when we see these people day after day...and we don't reach out...I can only hope that God says a prayer for us.

You reach out, you make a difference.

You always do.

Hugs, my friend.  It's never too late, or too often, for a repost like this.

        Karilea - If I whisper, will you listen?...

regards2you
Member Elite
since 2002-10-01
Posts 3940
California
2 posted 2003-04-04 01:36 PM




Ruth,

Am so glad to see this. It is our job to call the child protective social services, listed with operators and in all phone books. I've done it. Maybe can't do much for a battered woman yet until she is dead but, social services will take a look....if child is obviously bruised, neglected, etc. even then sometimes nothing can be done....but, at least all will have been done that could be....you never know it might be a wake-up call for all involved...

Good for you, posting this sensitive issue.

Hugs, Pat

..without surrender, be on good terms with all persons..
        "Desiderata"

passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
3 posted 2003-04-04 02:07 PM


gripping write...I agree
Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley
4 posted 2003-04-04 02:27 PM


Bravo!!! I remember this - and it caused tears then and now. No matter how many times we see this, it still cuts like a knife. Well done!!!
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