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Saturday, March 9, 2013

FACADES OF PAIN


I waddle
Cuddling the warmth
Unmindful, in the womb, of
Scheming minds
Against my very existence
Little did I know?
They are my own…mother and father

********************

I play
Smelling the flowers
Hide and seek
Unaware, in fun, of a
Grope
Waiting in a corner
Robbing me, of
My childhood
Little did I know?
He is my own….teacher.

************************
I dream
To fly sans strings
One day….
Unaware, of being, mauled by
Discrimination
Crushing my hopes
Little did I know?
He is my own …. Brother.

**************************

I mature
Flowering as a woman
Unaware, in love, of
Horror
Annulling my dignity
Little did I know?
He is my own…husband.

****************************
Stripped of me, myself
I remain
A living corpse
Wishing, momentarily
For a transfer of a slice of my life
To the brutal psyche
Perhaps, they would learn
A thing or two about
Pain, patience, endurance
Perhaps, that would be the end
Perhaps, that would be a cure
Without remissions
The CURE!
Perhaps.

Shared with: 
Verse First ~ Poets United CURE
3WW Brutal, Grope, Transfer

4 comments:

  1. Akila, these are powerful stanzas....all of them. And I DO wish you that cure without remission...for the rest of your life!

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  2. this is so powerfully dark and honestly frank. you manage to convey the inner world of a repeatedly abused woman.

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  3. oh dang...brought tears to my eyes..

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  4. This is a story of so many women. "Pain, patience, and endurance." And HOPE! That one day life will be better than it is, as all women so deserve. A heartfelt write, Akila.

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