The little boy wept as his hands trembled;
His heart was in his throat;
His body stood nude, bared into the hands of a monster;
Was it my father or was it a stranger?
He wept bitterly;
And pinched his skin to see if he was real;
A nightmare in broad daylight!
Of anguish and lifetime scars;
Who can I tell?
Who would believe such horrible words?
Who would listen to my story!
It is best it's untold;
I breathe in silence;
I scorned my living;
I just freeze, freeze, freeze!
Last Few Words: Kindly share any comment or perspective on this piece, and ways of improvement... Much thanks all.
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
dear Warrior Princess,
I hope this tragic tale of abuse is fiction. for the child's sake. your title is good. well can i relate to the theme. to have such a father as that... pure horror! I fund these lines most profound:
Who can I tell?
Who would believe such horrible words?
Who would listen to my story!
this is why so many cases go unreported...
a good write.
*hugs, Cat
Candlewitch thanks for your
Candlewitch thanks for your comments. Unfortunately, the incest percentage of sexual abuse with children is a social issue that continues to be prevalent in our society. It is not fiction, none of these poems is but factual experiences of victims and survivors. Thank you for highlighting the lines that resonated with you.
dear Candice,
I was afraid that was the case...it is sad and I am sorry for the situation. is there anything that I can do to help?
*major hugs, Cat
Candlewitch thanks for
Candlewitch thanks for expressing your concern, very thoughtful of you. The victims are seeking counselling and the survivors are in their healing journey.
Warrior indeed
I’ll not fill the message box with platitudes. I sense you know your worth and you discovered it through a never ending abusive relationship with the very person you should be able to trust.
This poem (like your others) is just real. It’s raw truth. You convey the boy’s story with anguish. The last stanza resounds with me. I believe it’s about the experience of both the boy and yourself (being witness or confidant) with such horrible secrets. They eat your sense of self until you become the secret. The shame and false guilt. I’m extrapolating and also projecting a bit.
I’m sorry this was your experience. I’m glad you found us here. I hope you’ll submit more and I think you’ll enjoy whatever level of support you might need amongst the folks here.
Sending Love, Healing, and Light
Tim
Hi, Tim thanks for sharing
Hi, Tim thanks for sharing your thoughtful comments. Just to clarify I was a victim of child abuse and domestic violence. However, not sexual abuse. The above poem is a factual poem of a child who has been sexually abused by his father, in his childhood years and has kept it inside knowing who can he tell, or who can he trust. As I had mentioned it's a sensitive case and so in our society, many children are afraid to come to report such cases.
I have healed and I am a survivor and so my poems have comforted me in many ways, as my thoughts were easy to express and unpack. I am also a social worker and my passion is to connect and identify with silent victims of abuse and encourage them to speak out and seek help. My professional goal is to eradicate gender-based violence, hence I choose this career.
My alter-ego "Killer"...
is who he is today, because of the monsters in the closets. While I was not sexually abused, I was physically abused as was my mother and my two sisters, [who were sexually molested]. Being unable to do anything, and festering with rage, birthed "Killer". He is my only guard against being crazy. He understands. ~ Geezer.
.
Hi Geezer, thank you for
Hi Geezer, thank you for sharing.