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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Psychology · #1285431
A child's desperate attempt for help.
Far Side of the Mountain

The child sat looking with eyes forlorn
temporarily ignoring the pants that were torn
and stained with blood and more
some kind of oozing gore
for which she had no name --
just a great unending pit of shame.

She had been told to remove the stain
from the pants, down the drain
along with her tears begining to dry
as though they too were wasted, no time to cry.
Scrubbing with grandma's soap of lye and lime
did not remove the shame. It was almost time.

Soon they would return and expect her there,
one of the children left in their care
when a drunken father and neglectful mother
decided to move on, leave them with another
relative to do the job they refused,
left them alone, afraid and abused.

She decided to go into the mountain of tar *
where others had gone when things went too far.
The stains mixed with dirt when she slipped and fell
down the slope through the muck leading from hell.
She was so small, too dirty, too weak,
to look for the keeper to hear him speak.

She lay down beside a creek that day,
as the water helped wash the stains away.
She drank with her hands, wiped her face, lost her fear.
"I'll return when I'm older. I know He is here.
I'll be grown up and clever, more likely to see
what the keeper thinks proper for a wastrel like me.".

Going down on the far side of that mountain was tame
compared to the climb up which nearly made her lame.
Halfway down as she stopped against a tree to rest,
she smoothed out wrinkles on the little blue dress, her best.
She felt a presence; she wasn't alone anymore.
Someone was whispering in ther ear; "don't ignore.

Don't ignore what I tell you, this won't be the last
trip up this mountain. After many summers have past,
you'll learn why you had to travel here to atone.
The first time you sought me, you came alone.
Remember this, if all else you forget through the years.
I heard your cries; I saw your tears.

As there are no more stains of blood to behold,
never believe the liar at fault who brazenly told
that you are a wastrel, of no use to me.
With me, you're clean, carefree, always shall be.
When you need me, just look up, to see.
There is no need for you to die, forgiveness I give.
Believe, have faith, go back and live.

* Coal Mountain, West Virginia

Hebrews 13:5 "Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be
content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will
never leave thee, nor forsake thee."



© Copyright 2007 Iva Lilly Durham (crankee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1285431-Far-Side-of-the-Mountain