Poem ***trigger warning***
for Vicky aged 5 ♥

Twinkle twinkle

Humpty dumpty on the wall,
Have you thought about it all?
The girl in bed without her dinner,
She’s looking ill and getting thinner.

The little boy who scraped his knees,
While having fun and climbing trees.
Who runs and jumps without a care,
As no one bad can get him there.
It’s his own home in which he worries,
When darting home in such a hurry.
He knows if he’s a moment late,
And mum should have to miss her date,
He will be beaten black and blue,
And later on his sister too.

As mother staggers through the door,
So drunk she falls onto the floor.
Her beau, content to leave her there,
Makes his way upon the stair.
The little girl is feigning sleep,
As she has heard this monster creep,
Towards her room, and through her door,
As mum is passed out on the floor.
Breath is even, she is still,
Perhaps, for just tonight she will,
Remain untouched and whole and pure,
She knows that he is wanting more.

The last time he came to her room,
And made advances in the gloom,
He promised he’d be back again,
He was her dear and special friend.
He’d chosen her from everyone,
And if she were to tell her mum,
There was no way she’d be believed,
And that her mum would be relieved,
To send he off to foster care,
And even more would happen there.
She bites her lip, her eyes squeezed tight,
Her mind is given to the night.

Little boy blue come blow your horn,
As the girl wakes quite forlorn.
She see’s her brother in the hall,
She yearns to tell about it all.
And as they both descend the stair,
They see their mother standing there,
She’s in the arms of current lover,
They stand together one another.
United both, they are defective,
Their mothers love is quite selective.
It comes and goes like time and tide,
Though in the past she may have tried,
To love her babies as a mother,
To choose them over any lover.
But now that time is in the past,
Should they have known it wouldn’t last;
They would have savoured every drop,
Of love that wasn’t meant to stop.
Of times devoid of men or drink,
Of a time where they could think,
Of scaling walls and climbing trees,
Of scraping shins and shoes and knees.
Of being full of innocence,
Of a world not so intense.

Jack and Jill when up the hill,
They drank some booze and took a pill.
They beat their kids when they defected,
They left them barren and infected.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
Jill grew up and went insane,
To the sound of crowing laughter

by Vicky W aged 29

~

It’s dark and I’m frightened
I want to run but I can’t
I want to scream but I’ve no voice
Everything is so big and scary
But that’s life for me.

I learnt to lie and deceive
Whilst others learnt to play
My life became a tangled web
I fought to stay alive
And just manage to survive.

My monster knew how to torment me
It chased me even in my dreams
Nowhere was safe for us
It was just all a game to him
Something to amuse him.

But then I found my feet
And I ran away and learnt to escape
I got away and found my courage
I finally defeated my monster
But my real monsters where just starting
But with time I can hope.

Everything became tainted
My family home was hell on earth
My little safe places weren’t so anymore
Our little heart was shattered
It still is even now with time past.

I used to escape through books
Now its music and writing
Now I’ve gotten in touch with my inner child
I won’t ever run away from her again
For she is me and I am her.

Finally I have a purpose
I have a reason to live again
I want to nurture my little one
Because I very nearly killed her.

By Christina Moore who wanted her name to be published with her work.

~

“It’s Okay To Be”

How is it that time so often seems to disappear
In that one crystal moment, when everything is clear
And during that breathless stunning silent moment
You finally see your strengths, as well as your opponents

I wonder what it is that somehow makes a few dreams last
And why it is that some things must be buried in the past
So many times something seems to steal away our choice
Leaves us feeling empty, and snatches away our voice

In truth our only option is to look deep down within
The courage is inside, waiting to let love’s light shine in
That shimmering crystal moment is when only you can see
That it’s okay to be who you are, and it’s okay just to Be

Living is the greatest gift we can give ourselves
It’s time to bring down hope from off those dusty shelves
Believing in forgiveness, just for grace’s sake
Always striving for our goals, no matter what it takes

And maybe in that instant, when time somehow disappears
We might see that there is truly nothing left for us to fear
Putting aside the worries that there is no more need to hide
It’s so clear that all the truth we need is waiting inside

Everyday is another chance to Be, to live, and to show
That by living the example, we help each other grow
Hand in hand, we will make it through the dark of night
And when the sun shines upon us, we’ll see together we won the fight.

~

The Cries of the Children

Does nobody hear the cries of the children?
Alone and afraid of the dark.
Or maybe they hear, but are too afraid
To look into their own hearts.
“Ignore them,” they say, “these children of ours,
who we love and care for so dearly”.
Then why don’t they hear as we cry from our pain,
When we can see it so clearly.
Our memories fade as we grow in our bodies,
Memories of pain and abuse.
But the child stays inside and never grows up,
And wonders, “What it the use?”
With nowhere to turn for love, warmth and caring,
This pain that we bear may fade with sharing.
Childhoods lost in the depths of our minds,
Experiences we can’t remember.
When did we go wrong, January, May or December?
What did we do to these people we love,
To make them ignore us, not see our pain?
They leave us or hurt us with actions and words,
Again and again and again.
Well the children grow up and adulthood is hard,
When inside a child’s heart you see.
For whatever it was that made us so bad,
It’s a mystery to us.
We try so hard to be everyone’s friend,
To help them whatever their needs.
But no matter how hard we try,
There is no way we can succeed.
For we’re wounded and maimed by something we’ve done,
Way back when we were small.
But he’s okay, they comfort him,
So we guess we must be the ones.
For they let him abuse us, this man they protect,
So we’re bad and that is a fact.
And the way we act when we cry out,
“Is no way for a lady to act”.
“Just forgive and forget”, the tell us to do,
“You grew up and you’re okay,
Go on with our life and you’ll be fine,
To be abused another day”.
They don’t understand, we don’t have a life,
For someone took it away.
The child was killed by this man that they know,
But in the family he’ll stay.
He left in her place this adult you see,
With no hopes or dreams, just fears.
She cries all alone, for that’s how it is,
Alone with her pain through the years.
Her mother’s too busy with menial chores, or just too scared to see,
That she’s got wounds too, just like me.
Her brothers abuse her and tell her she’s bad,
She’s a slut and a tramp and a sleaze.
“She’s always been bad, this sister of ours,
we’re surprised she’s not diseased”.
For they’re in pain too, but are too blind to see,
That they’re children inside, for they have been hurt,
And by facing it they can be free.
To love and to grow as healthy men,
And stop the pain and abuse.
So alone she still cries and wonders why,
And again, “what it the use?”
But somebody hears as she cries in her bed,
The Lord up above in the sky.
And she longs to be with him, where she can be safe,
But to do that she must die.
Her time has not come to leave this world,
Full of pain, neglect and abuse.
For she hears the cries of the children,
Alone and afraid of the dark.
There’s always a reason for the things we go through,
The good, the bad and the ugly.
We must help these children that nobody hears,
And that’s what she must do.
When her life is over and her time has come,
To be with her Lord in the sky,
She’ll know that she did the best she could,
To see that no more children die!

By Debbie Roxborough

~

Lullabye

Hush little girl;
Don’t cry tonight.
Say a little prayer
And turn out the light.

Close your eyes;
Lay down your head.
It’s time to sleep
So please go to bed.

A few years older,
So much has changed.
You sleep in the same bed
With the room rearranged.

Not quite woman, not quite girl -
Sweet, innocent sixteen.
You cling to the pillow
To stifle your scream.

Hush little girl;
Don’t cry tonight.
Say a little prayer
And turn out the light.

By Tonya Powers

~

In memory of an 8 yr old

Somebody help this little girl
She’s afraid of what the future brings
Lead her in the right direction
Protect her from all evil things.
Show her how to smile again
Turn her darkness into light
Tell a story – make her laugh
Replace the darkness with safety at night.
Teach her how to love again
Tell her things aren’t all that bad
Life isn’t always what you want
You can’t redo what you once had.
Maybe she can be happy again
If all the pain would go away
Perhaps she could see the light of day.
Her heart is hurting all the time
She’s living in misery that was cause by a crime.
So somebody help this little girl
Please take her away her heartfelt sorrow
Somebody help this little girl
Make her want to live to tomorrow.

Copyright 2002, M. Thomas