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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #911775
A poem dealing with an emotional state in childhood.
Traces of bitterness
Life that has not been sweet,
Growing up in disgrace and defeat.
Waking up wet, every morning in terror,
Waiting for the inevitable
To end my panicking state.

Here come the footsteps
As she calls out my name,
Can’t seem to shake off
This feeling of shame.

Wishing I were someone else
Hating myself for doing it again,
Can’t seem to wake up
Why me? Why this cup?

So deep in sleep I lay
Dreams of skeletons they portray,
That this old house is not innocent
Something is here with malice presence.

Teased at school each day
Never getting rid of the stench it plays,
Not just my body, but also my soul
Not living, only surviving, still unwhole.

Then came the day that it all had passed
I put behind me those days in the past.
Remembering this experience of shame,
Trying not to lay the blame.
It was not a case of laziness
But deep sleep and emotional darkness.

Years later I had to ask her
Why? Did it not occur?
To you that I was troubled?
Needing help, not pummelled
With my children, I understood this problem
I never laid a beating upon them

People need to be educated
More sympathetic, and tolerated
Children are our legacy
Help them to grow up fairly
With every opportunity
With pride, love and dignity.

© Catharine Minter-Parks 2004






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