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
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.
Verse First ~
Poets United CURE
3WW Brutal, Grope, Transfer
Akila, these are powerful stanzas....all of them. And I DO wish you that cure without remission...for the rest of your life!
ReplyDeletethis is so powerfully dark and honestly frank. you manage to convey the inner world of a repeatedly abused woman.
ReplyDeleteoh dang...brought tears to my eyes..
ReplyDeleteThis 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.
ReplyDelete